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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27163286">in the direction of you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/startswithhope/pseuds/startswithhope'>startswithhope</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Best Friends, Coming Out, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Long-Distance Friendship, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, POV Patrick Brewer, Pining, Sexual Content</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:23:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>47,569</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27163286</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/startswithhope/pseuds/startswithhope</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Years ago, Patrick made an impulsive decision that flipped his life upside down and sent him running five hundred miles away. Three years later, he’s home, with history aiming to repeat itself again. Will he make the same decision and risk losing the one thing he wants more than anything in the world? More importantly, how can he even choose now that he truly knows how he feels? </p><p> </p><p>  <em>I made a list of what I love<br/>To make a document that shows what I think I'm made of<br/>To tell me what I should do<br/>And hope it turns me in the direction of you<br/>- Coming Back to You - Sara Bareilles</em></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Patrick Brewer/David Rose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>693</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>567</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic has been a labor of love that I'm super excited to finally share with everyone. You can expect new chapters to go up every two to three days, so you won't have to wait long for the next installment. It's finished and currently at 14 chapters, but I may end up adding an epilogue later. The narrative is non-linear, so be sure to pay attention to the timestamps for each section so you don't get confused. :)</p><p>Huge thanks to <a href="https://wild-aloof-rebel.tumblr.com/">wild-aloof-rebel</a> and  <a href="https://jessx2231.tumblr.com/">jessx2231</a> for their invaluable insights and editing! I can't thank you ladies enough. ♡</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>September 13, 2019 - 5:35 pm - Present Day</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Ladies and gentlemen, as we start our descent into New York City, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position. Make sure your seat belt is securely fastened and all carry-on luggage is stowed underneath the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins. We’ll be landing in approximately 15 minutes.” </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>September 17, 2015 - 9:25 pm - Four years ago</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“Oh my god, you’re a lifesaver! Let me just…”</p><p>Patrick flinches a little as David tears the plastic covered hanger from his fingers and runs, a perfectly coiffed black blur disappearing into the gathering crowd loitering outside the club. Everyone around him is dressed like David, effortless and fashionable and completely untouchable. Unease prickles at the back of his neck and he steps back a few steps, finding a Village Voice newspaper stand to lean against as he waits, hopeful that David will remember he’s still out here eventually. </p><p>This just isn’t his scene. Never has been. Never will be. But then again, he’s sure there’s people at the periphery of his world who think the same thing about his friendship with David. They just don’t know. And he honestly doesn’t need them to. His friendship with David isn’t something he feels the need to explain. Sometimes he thinks back to that time two years ago when David walked into his office, full of bravado and obvious annoyance, declaring that <em> “there must be something wrong with the study materials because absolutely nothing the professor is saying makes sense to anyone. </em>” Patrick had been intrigued from the start and after helping David through his class, they’d learned that while their lives were, on the surface, very different, they just complimented one another. Patrick can’t imagine what his life would be like today without David in it.</p><p>But, he is starting to worry that he’s been forgotten and it wouldn’t be the first time.</p><p>His phone rings in his pocket and relief washes over him until he sees Rachel’s name on the display instead of David’s. </p><p>“Hey Rach.”</p><p>“Hey. I’m leaving early. Wanna meet for a drink?”</p><p>“Sorry, can’t. I’m in the village with David at this opening thing. His client needed a new shirt and I offered to pick it up.”</p><p>“He trusted <em> you </em> with that?”</p><p>“Only because it was clearly labelled at his loft and there was no chance I’d grab the wrong one.”<br/><br/>“Where is he, I wanna say hi.”</p><p>“Inside somewhere. I’m waiting for…”</p><p>His grip on his phone tightens as an entirely too familiar head of hair comes into view and his mouth goes dry as it falls open in disbelief.</p><p>“Waiting for what?”</p><p>“...”</p><p>“Patrick? Did I lose you?”</p><p>With narrowed eyes he tracks the movement of the unwelcome sight before him and tamps down his urge to growl aloud.</p><p>“Sebastien’s here.”</p><p>“Oh god. Is David...does he...oh no.”</p><p>“Rach, I need to find him before Sebastien does. Can I call you later?”</p><p>“Of course, go. He’ll need you.”</p><p>“Yeah. Okay, bye.”</p><p>He’s hung up before Rachel can respond and is already pressing the speed dial for David. As the phone rings loudly against his ear, he makes an attempt at maneuvering through the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of David’s hair. </p><p>“Sorry, sorry, I’m on my way back out,” David pants breathlessly in his ear through the phone. </p><p>“David! Oh good, where are you, oh wait, I see you.”</p><p>A statuesque blonde is blocking Patrick’s path to David’s side and he catches her eye so he can politely ask if he can squeeze by and is rendered speechless when he realizes it’s Charlize Theron. She smiles and looks down at him, because she’s a good six inches taller in her heels, but he’s honestly at a complete loss for words.</p><p>“Charlize! I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”</p><p>David appears like a black knight, rescuing him from inevitable embarrassment with a gentle hand at Charlize’s elbow as they exchange cheek kisses and pleasantries. Luckily, she’s pulled away again before David even has the opportunity to introduce Patrick and he’s given a chance to compose himself again.</p><p>“Wow, she’s stunning.”</p><p>“I know, right? We have the same hair stylist and we’ve gotten high together a few times. Smartest person I’ve ever met. She only comes to these things to secure financing for her producing projects.”</p><p>The distraction of Charlize has worn off and he’s focused back on what had set him off in such a hurry to find David and he reaches out to grab his forearm to keep him from wandering off again. </p><p>“David, come here for a second,” he says softy, guiding David through an opening in the crowd to a hidden spot behind the door.</p><p>“What is it, everything okay?”</p><p>David’s voice has gone up an octave and his full, expressive eyebrows have gone sky high and Patrick really isn’t looking forward to the panic that’s about to ensue.</p><p>“It’s Sebastien, he just walked in.”</p><p>As expected, David does not take this news well. All the color drains from his face as he presses his lips together in a thin line, his arms coming up to cross over his chest in an obvious attempt at protection.</p><p>“Okay, well, this was...uh....inevitable, right?” he stammers, eyes flicking to the left as they go on a search for his ex-boyfriend.</p><p>“Unfortunately, yeah,” Patrick admits, wishing there was something, anything he could do to make this easier.</p><p>“Was he, um, with someone?”</p><p>“I’m not sure. I saw him and immediately went looking for you. Can you leave or do you have to…?”</p><p>“I can’t leave. Nina could show up at any minute and if I’m not here my mother will never hear the end of it. She had to call in so many favors to get me this gig.”</p><p>Patrick doesn’t know what to say, so he just reaches out and wraps a hand around one of David’s elbows so he can give it a comforting squeeze. It makes David smile a little, so he doesn’t let go immediately. They always knew the first time seeing Sebastien Raine after the break up would be hard, but it’s entirely too soon. It’s only been two weeks since David walked in on his ex taking raunchy photos of another man in David’s bed. Patrick’s stomach goes sour just thinking about how David had appeared at his door with bloodshot eyes and a bottle of red and the hours spent crying with his head on Patrick’s lap.</p><p>David was far too good for him anyway. Patrick always knew there was something off with the guy, but knew David didn’t want to hear it. So he’d kept his mouth shut. That’s something he’ll never do again.</p><p>“We can just stay right here, David.” He’s keeping his voice low and soothing, not wanting anyone around them to get clued in to David’s current state of panic. “There’s so many people here that hopefully he won’t even see us.”</p><p>Dark eyes meet his and he smiles, slightly mollified when he sees David take a deep breath in and unfurl his arms. When he does, Patrick’s hand that had been on his elbow slides down his sleeve and their fingers brush, so Patrick does what feels natural and grabs David’s hand. When David’s fingers tighten around his, warmth blossoms in Patrick’s chest knowing that he’s proving to be a steadying force. He’d do anything to make this better; top of that list being punching Sebastien square in the chin, but he doesn’t think David would be amused.</p><p>Patrick slots himself in between the door and David, keeping him slightly hidden behind his stocky frame, but realizes immediately that it’s too late.</p><p>“He’s walking over.”</p><p>“Oh he is…”</p><p>“He’s walking…”</p><p>“Oh he’s coming…”</p><p>“And he’s here.”</p><p>David’s fingers are squeezing Patrick’s to the point of pain.</p><p>“He’s here…”</p><p>“David,” Sebastien drawls in that unaffected way that always made Patrick want to swear under his breath. “It’s so good to see you. Look at you, you look really...healthy.”</p><p>Sebastien leans in as if he’s going to kiss David’s cheek and Patrick does actually growl, surprising both himself, David and Sebastien.</p><p>“Oh, Patrick, I didn’t see you there. Oh...wait, are you two?”</p><p>Sebastian lifts a hand swallowed up by his oversized cardigan and gestures between them and down to where their hands are still firmly clasped.</p><p>“Uh,” David starts to say and Patrick can feel him pulling to untangle their fingers, but something in Patrick snaps and he doesn’t let go.</p><p>“Yeah, we are.”</p><p>Sebastian’s either too high or too uncaring to have much of a reaction to that beyond a rather unattractive sneer. Patrick can feel David’s eyes boring a hole in the side of his head, but Patrick’s woven the first thread of this tale and he can’t exactly begin to unravel it now.</p><p>“Figured that would happen eventually,” Sebastian chuckles and Patrick’s brow furrows at the suggestion before composing himself again to what he hopes is coming off as unbothered. </p><p>“Uh, well, it happened and we couldn’t be happier about it.”</p><p>Chancing a look over at David, Patrick steels himself for whatever expression he might find on his best friend’s face, expecting the worst. David’s mouth is slightly open and his eyes are soft and questioning and slightly watery and Patrick’s worried he’s done something really wrong here. That is, until he feels David’s hand tighten around his to pull him in a little closer to his side.</p><p>“Yeah,” David says, eyes still on Patrick, “we’re very happy.”</p><p>“I can see that.”</p><p>Patrick pries his eyes from David to narrow his gaze on Sebastian, more than happy to play the part of protective boyfriend if it means he’ll leave David alone.</p><p>“You guys should come inside. We’ll buy you a drink.”</p><p>We. So he’s not here alone. Patrick’s feeling a lot better about his impulsive decision now.</p><p>“I’m pretty busy, actually.” David offers quickly. “Nina Garcia has me on call tonight, styling for a few clients and I…”</p><p>Sebastien has swiveled his head and is talking to someone passing by, cutting David off mid-sentence, as he’d been known to do often when the two of them were dating. It drove Patrick up the wall seeing David disrespected, but it had never been his place to do anything about it. And it still isn’t now, not really, but Sebastien doesn’t know that. But what can he do?</p><p>Turning his head towards David, he sees some lingering hurt there and all he wants to do is make it better. That’s the reason he finds himself lifting their joined hands up to his lips and kissing David’s knuckles, his mouth smiling against his soft skin as David’s eyes jolt over in surprise. Patrick has no idea what he’s doing, but it feels like the right thing to do and at the very least, it has to be helping to sell this little charade while redirecting David’s attention from his undeserving ex. </p><p>David’s smiling now, too, and shaking his head a little, and blushing. Yeah, he’s blushing, but from the heat pooling behind Patrick’s cheeks and creeping up his neck, he’s pretty sure he is, too. And that’s confusing, because this is David and this moment isn’t coming from anywhere real and there’s other pieces of this puzzle that shouldn’t fit, at least not in their current configuration. And why does he suddenly feel like he chugged a double espresso?</p><p>“An interesting tableau, you two.”</p><p>Patrick’s smile fades and he turns back at the sound of Sebastien’s voice, his eyes going steely as he takes in the put-on contemplative expression on the other man’s face. </p><p>“Not interested,” David snaps beside Patrick’s ear, his tone definitive and strong and pride swells heavy in Patrick’s chest.</p><p>“We’ll see,” Sebastien drawls, slowly hooking his long fingers over the lapels of his cardigan and slinking away without another word into the crowd.</p><p>“Holy shit, thank you, oh my god!”</p><p>Patrick’s breath catches as he’s quickly gathered into a fierce hug, David’s long arms trapping him in tight against his chest. He’s caught off guard by so many things all at once; the crisp scent of David’s aftershave where his nose is pressed into David’s chin, the softness of his sweater under Patrick’s fingers as he spreads his hands out over David’s back, and something else, something deeper in Patrick’s gut tugging towards something just out of his immediate comprehension.</p><p>All he knows for sure is he doesn’t want David to let go.</p><p>Just as he’s turning his head to seek more contact with David’s neck, he’s being pulled out of the embrace and it’s like he’s hit the final straight at the end of a too short rollercoaster. And it’s confusing as hell.</p><p>“What made you do that?” David asks and Patrick pulls himself from the spreadsheet of emotions he’s started to try to organize in his head to look up with a forced smile at his best friend.</p><p>“I, uh, just went with the moment, I guess? I didn’t want…” David’s looking at him with such fondness that it scrambles his brains a little more and all he can do is speak the truth. “I didn’t want to see you hurt again.”</p><p>David’s head drops a little as he shakes his head, smiling as he reaches out to grab the lapels of Patrick’s blue blazer and give them a little tug.</p><p>“I don’t deserve you, Patrick Brewer.”</p><p>
  <em> You deserve far better than you think you do, David Rose. </em>
</p><p>The rest of the evening is spent on very unsteady ground, with David acting like everything is normal as he greets passing acquaintances and runs off to deal with fashion emergencies, all while Patrick is trying to find balance amidst conflicting feelings he’s struggling to get a handle on.</p><p>It’s not the first time he’s wondered about his own sexuality, far from it, but he’d listened to David talk so many times about how <em> sexuality is all on a spectrum and no one is as straight as they think they are </em> and - being honest here with himself - he’d hidden behind that explanation to explain things he wasn’t ready to face. And never having acted upon his attractions, it had been easy to just be single. Rachel had been his last girlfriend, but that had ended years ago, so he hasn’t had to deal with this thing that’s been itching to be scratched. </p><p>But the few minutes of pretending with David earlier, it’s given him a glimpse, just a tiny peek, at how it might feel to...and he’s...he really needs to sit down. Unclamping his fingers from the railing he’d been clinging to so hard his knuckles ache, he looks around for somewhere to escape.</p><p>There’s an empty booth in the far corner of the club and he makes his way over, chatter and laughter creating a cloud of noise he both wants to hide inside and get far away from. The leather is soft and supple and untouched beneath his hands as he sits and he looks around, feeling completely out of place and anxious. He needs to talk to someone. David comes to mind first, but that just makes his head swim and his belly flutter and he knows that he isn’t ready for that conversation. But he knows who he can trust to listen.</p><p>Pulling out his phone, he types out a quick message to Rachel.</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="phone">
  <p class="messagebody">
    <span class="text">still up for a drink? I need to talk</span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </p>
</div><p>While he waits for a reply, he scans the crowd in search of David, finding him leaning against the bar and talking animatedly to a very attractive man with golden skin and a mop of dark curls. Sebastien left the club an hour ago, removing the immediate need for Patrick to be at David’s side and David slipped seamlessly back into his element.</p><p>Patrick, however, is slipping further and further under a very dark cloud. He feels so out of place and he isn’t David’s type...and <em> wow </em>, yeah, he really needs to talk to Rachel.</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="phone">
  <p class="messagebody">
    <span class="breply">come over. U ok?</span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </p>
</div><p>Is he?</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="phone">
  <p class="messagebody">
    <span class="text">yeah. be there soon</span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </p>
</div><p>As he approaches David at the bar he finds himself slowing down, his eyes taking in how close David has moved to the other man and the slight pink hue coloring the apples of his cheeks. The sight has pressure building behind Patrick’s eyes and he stops, turns, and makes his way towards the door, needing to get air, get distance, and maybe puke, he isn’t quite sure. </p><p>He’ll text David when he gets to Rachel’s. David obviously doesn’t need him anymore tonight.</p><p>By the time he’s knocking on Rachel’s door, he’s so strung out on a hastily woven web of assumptions and anger and sadness and confusion that when she opens the door, words he’s never imagined he’d speak at all - especially not aloud - come tumbling out.</p><p>“I think I’m in love with David.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<p>
  <b>September 13, 2019 - 7:45 pm - Present Day</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Walking up the stoop of the building where he’d first lived with Rachel all those years ago brings back a wave of memories, both happy and considerably less so, but Patrick finds he’s welcoming to all of them. He’s been away too long. </p>
<p>His tired legs protest it, but he still takes the three flights up two steps at a time, too anxious to see her and get this new chapter of his life started already. It won’t feel real until he sees her smile.</p>
<p>It feels like his chest has cracked open to make room for his heart as it swells in his chest when he sees her standing in her doorway, her auburn hair spilling out of a messy ponytail, the loose tendrils framing her face as it transforms at the sight of him into an expression of pure joy.</p>
<p>“You’re home!”</p>
<p>The strawberry scent of Rachel’s hair envelops him as she launches herself into his chest and tears he’d been holding back for far too long are set free to roll down his cheeks. He’s missed her to his very core. She’s so small in his arms, just like she’s always been, so he picks her up and swings her into her apartment with a laugh.</p>
<p>He’s home.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p>
  <b>September 19, 2013 - 10:25 am - Six years ago</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A few years’ worth of paint comes free as he wrenches the window behind his desk open a few inches, desperately in need of a little air in this tiny shoebox of an office they’ve relegated him to. His fingertips are dusted in white from the paint and he rubs his hands together, sending a cloud into the air that undoubtedly is filling his lungs with lead and other chemicals he’d rather not think about.</p>
<p>He opens his drawer and pulls out the syllabus and stack of materials that had been dropped off in his inbox the day before and rereads the note his professor has paper-clipped at the top.</p>
<p>
  <em> A friend’s son needs some help with his business class at Parsons. He’ll be by tomorrow morning sometime after 10. Please make this a priority. His name is David Rose. </em>
</p>
<p>Having just gotten his TA position at Stern, he’s not about to question this somewhat odd request to help a student who doesn’t even go to NYU. Getting into one of the most prestigious business schools in the states was not something he’d imagined for himself, but he’s spent the last three years making the most of the experience while trying, with moderate success, to find his footing in New York City. Coming from small town Canadian life, he’s definitely a small fish swimming against the tide in a very big ocean. Thank god for Rachel, his ex-fiancée and now closest confidant, who’d initially followed him to the city, but is now focused on chasing dreams of her own. </p>
<p>Just thinking about her makes him smile and causes his stomach to grumble as he wishes he had one of her apple danishes from the bakery she works at over on 34th. Grabbing his phone, he shoots her off a quick text.</p>
<p> </p>
<p></p><div class="phone">
  <p class="messagebody">
    <span class="text">free for lunch?</span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="breply">can do 1pm. got a few big orders this morning</span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="text">Got it.</span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="breply">I'll bring you a danish.</span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="text">love you</span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="breply">I know</span><br/>
<br/>
</p>
</div><p>He’s smiling down at his phone when he hears a gentle rap against his open door. Looking up, he sees a tall man with dark hair and striking features standing there, a small, if somewhat impatient smile curling his lips.</p>
<p>“Patrick?”</p>
<p>Rising from his chair, he does a quick wipe of his hands on his jeans to make sure there’s no paint dust left to mess up the obviously expensive and very black clothes on the man in his doorway. </p>
<p>“You must be David Rose.”</p>
<p>David takes Patrick’s extended hand in a quick shake as he looks around the room with what looks like curious disdain.</p>
<p>“So, you’re at Parsons?” Patrick asks, even though he already knows this to be true, but he needs an opener to this awkward conversation.</p>
<p>“Yes, one semester left until graduation.”</p>
<p>“That’s a big deal.”  He’s being honest. It is. Parsons isn’t an easy school to get into, much less succeed at, so David is obviously a pretty smart guy.</p>
<p>“Is it?” David doesn’t sound convinced, which for some reason, Patrick finds amusing. </p>
<p>“Yeah, it’s pretty big. Wanna have a seat?”</p>
<p>David nods and sits in the worn leather armchair across from Patrick’s desk, spine straight and chin up and Patrick immediately finds himself intrigued by the man’s air of confidence. He’s also older than Patrick expected him to be, maybe a few years older than Patrick, and Patrick finds himself even more curious to hear his story.</p>
<p>“So, how can I help?”</p>
<p>A few minutes into David’s diatribe about his professor and the apparent incoherence of his lectures and the ungodly time he expects them all to show up to class, Patrick realizes he’s been smiling like an idiot at this stranger the entire time. He’s pretty sure he’s never met anyone quite as charming. It feels good, just basking in the energy David’s giving off, even if it’s mildly erratic and just this side of pretentious. </p>
<p>They eventually make a plan to meet twice a week to go over David’s lecture notes and assignments and Patrick does his best to assure David that he’ll help him pass the class. </p>
<p>“We’ll take this one step at a time, David. Fashion may be your wheelhouse, but this is mine. With you and me together, we’ve got a strong bench to work with.”</p>
<p>David’s looking at him like he’s grown three heads and Patrick makes a note that he might need to use less sports metaphors. David needs a teacher, not a coach. And maybe he’s making a bad assumption here, but David doesn’t really strike him as much of a sports guy.</p>
<p>He sends David off with a few worksheets to work on that will give Patrick a better idea of his base knowledge and makes sure to jot down his cell phone number in case he gets stuck on any of the questions.</p>
<p>"I’m sure I’ll be able to handle these just fine, but thanks for this,” David says as he types Patrick’s number into his cell and stands to leave. “I’ll uh, talk to you next week?”</p>
<p>“It was nice meeting you, David.”</p>
<p>David just looks up with a distracted half smile from the pile of worksheets before turning to walk away down the hall.</p>
<p>As soon as David’s out of sight, Patrick turns on his computer and goes straight to Google. If gossip sites are to be believed, David Rose is not only more than a little bit famous, but he’s quite the party boy. Or at least he was up until a few years ago. There’s photos of him with beautiful women and men, but Patrick wouldn’t say he looks all that happy in any of them. But then again, he just met this man. He’s not really in a position to know what David Rose looks like when he’s happy.</p>
<p>When Rachel finally plops down next to him on the bench in the park about ten minutes after one, he’s still thinking about his morning and the man at the center of it and he can’t wait to tell Rachel all about him.</p>
<p>“I met the most interesting guy today.”</p>
<p>Patrick’s cell buzzes to life in his pocket with an incoming call from a number he doesn’t recognize and after shooting an apologetic look at Rachel, he goes to answer it.</p>
<p>“Hello?”</p>
<p>“Hi Patrick, it’s David Rose.”</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p>
  <b>September 13, 2019 - 9:20 pm - Present Day</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He can’t remember a time when he’s been more nervous.</p>
<p>The storefront is a block and a half away and with each step, Patrick’s belly swirls with excitement and a good dose of anxiety as he prepares himself to see his...well, he’s not sure what David is to him anymore. They’ve spoken on the phone and via text pretty regularly these past three years, more recently over FaceTime as he’s walked David through the business side of his new venture, but he hasn’t seen him in person since he left New York back in 2016. Thinking about him though - that’s been a constant thing, like a song that won’t get out of your head that you end up humming at random moments for no reason at all. And about a month ago, he’d finally hit his breaking point and decided if he was going to think about David all the time, it’s going to be for a good reason and it’s time to stop running. So that’s how he’s found himself here, feet shuffling on newly fallen leaves beneath his nicest brown dress shoes, dressed in what David used to call his “Patrick uniform” of dark wash Levi’s and blue oxford shirt. Constancy gives him confidence and that’s what he needs right now more than anything.</p>
<p>Reaching his destination, he smiles at how perfectly <em> David </em> the outside is, austere black paint trimming the windows with “Rose Atelier” in ivory block lettering over the door. It’s clean and modern while still being classic and. Faced with a building that personifies the man he loves,  Patrick’s nerve endings are sent on a bit of a lightning storm. God, he’s not sure if he’s ready for this. But if he’s ever going to have the life he wants, or at least express to David how much he wants him to be a part of that life, he needs to be. So, he steps up to the door and pulls it open, the jingle of a bell over his head unexpected enough to distract him from the sight of the man he’s been pining over for four years leaning away from him on the counter a few feet away.</p>
<p>“Sorry, we’re still closed…” David says as he stands up straight and looks over his shoulder, his annoyed expression changing on a dime to a huge smile that Patrick absorbs straight into his chest.</p>
<p>“Patrick!”</p>
<p>Everything around him feels hazy as David’s long legs stride across the artfully stained wood floor and he knows he should say something, but he’s being pulled into a hug and all he can do is sink into the comfort of arms that feel like missing limbs. He’s sure he’s clinging to David too hard, but he doesn’t care. Tucking his nose in close to David’s neck, he takes a deep breath in, sure David can feel how fast his heart is beating considering how their chests are sharing the same space.</p>
<p>“Hi,” Patrick manages to mumble as he loosens his grip, cautious suddenly that he’s giving too much of himself away. David doesn’t let go completely, instead pulling back just enough to give Patrick another heart stopping smile and whisper his own “Hi” right back.</p>
<p>Patrick’s hands have fallen to David’s waist and they’re just standing together, in David’s half-empty storefront, sharing smiles that haven’t shared the same space for too many years.</p>
<p>“It’s so good to see you,” he admits, the truth of his words surely evident in his expression. He’s never been good at hiding how he feels, making this interaction fraught with consequences he still needs some time to prepare himself for.</p>
<p>Sparks fly down his arms as David gives his shoulders a gentle squeeze and Patrick has to stop himself from leaning further into the touch.</p>
<p>“I’d tell you that I missed you, but you already know that. I still haven’t forgiven you for moving away.”</p>
<p>
  <em> I had to. </em>
</p>
<p>“Well, I’m back now. Wanna show me around?”</p>
<p>David’s face lights up and he drops his hands, leaving Patrick bereft at the loss. He quickly schools his features back to normal as David begins an enthusiastic, albeit short, tour of his tiny shop, carefully moving elegant fingers over the racks of black and white clothing along the back wall.</p>
<p>“My fall collection is finally finished, thank god! The last few pieces came back from the tailor yesterday and I have my first client fittings after the official opening next Friday. Somehow, this is my actual life, Patrick.”</p>
<p>“Of course it is. I knew you’d make it happen.”</p>
<p>“The expression is <em> make it work </em>,” David chides as he slides one of his rings up his finger to rub at the slightly indented skin beneath. </p>
<p>“Oh, sorry Tim Gunn.” </p>
<p>His eye roll is noticed and smirked at and like magic, he feels transported back to that first year of their friendship, being forced to watch Project Runway reruns as a reward for David getting through his study sessions. He’d learned far more about fashion than he’d ever imagined wanting to know, but he’d retaliated with a few baseball game viewings. David, annoyingly, had surprised him with his enjoyment, even if it was only because of the food Patrick always provided and the players in their tight pants. In his years away, Patrick had really reflected on both of those activities and came to terms with the main reason he loved them was the time he got to spend with David. They could have been doing just about anything together back then and Patrick would have been happy. The tight pants on the players were just a bonus.</p>
<p>“I almost auditioned for the most recent season of Project Runway, did I tell you that?”</p>
<p>“No! Why didn’t you?”</p>
<p>David shrugs and rights the ring on his finger before responding.</p>
<p>“Didn’t feel like having my work judged. I know what I like and if my clients do, too, that’s all that really matters.”</p>
<p>“You’re gonna have people lined up around the block to wear your clothes, David, I just know it.”</p>
<p>“We’ll see. I’m starting small with a soft launch, just inviting family and a few friends that I used to style back in the day and I’ll see how that goes.”</p>
<p>Patrick doesn’t want his friend to sell himself short, but he keeps his mouth shut and just nods, stepping around David to have a peek at the back room. It’s New York, so it’s understandably small, but David’s made the most of every inch of space. There’s a dressing room area behind a thick, cream colored curtain and a three way mirror tucked into the back with overhead lighting in a soft warm tone.</p>
<p>“It looks fantastic back here.”</p>
<p>David’s “thanks” comes from directly behind him and Patrick jumps a little in surprise. The warmth of David’s chuckle passes over his neck and he has to close his eyes and center himself, wondering what it’s going to take to be back in David’s life like this if things don’t work out as Patrick hopes. </p>
<p>“Hey, let's take a quick photo. I never know when you might up and disappear on me so I need to document our time together whenever I can.”</p>
<p>“Oh come on, I gave you a warning last time,” Patrick sighs, actually a little bit frustrated with himself that he can’t explain to David all of his reasons for leaving. But he told himself when he’d packed up his life in Toronto to head back here that he’d take his time with this, rebuild the friendship fractured and eventually, at the right time, find a way to tell David how he feels. </p>
<p>If there are going to be moments like this, with David’s dreams unfurling in front of him, Patrick can’t risk not being a part of it. Not ever again. </p>
<p>As he’s been having this internal dilemma, David has stepped around him into the back room and is now maneuvering him by the shoulders in search of good selfie lighting. Patrick is pulled immediately back to the present and lets himself enjoy David’s touch and his mouth twisted up in concentration and his annoyed little grunts as he shuffles them both closer to the mirror.</p>
<p>“Fuck, whatever, this will have to do. Just stay there…”</p>
<p>Patrick finds his back pressed in tight to David’s chest as the camera is held out in front of them by David’s long arm and all Patrick can do is laugh, which earns him a quick dig in the ribs. Turning his head, he looks over his shoulder at David with a big, genuine smile just as he hears the click of David’s camera phone. </p>
<p>“Ugh, you probably ruined that...oh, no, this is cute!”</p>
<p>Turning his phone so Patrick can see the screen, David shows Patrick the photo and it honestly, it takes Patrick’s breath away. The look on his face is screaming “I LOVE YOU” so loudly that he both wants David to delete it immediately and send him a copy. </p>
<p>“Yeah, very cute.”</p>
<p>David is focused back on his phone and Patrick hopes David didn’t catch the wistfulness behind that response.</p>
<p>“You okay over there? You seem a little, off?”</p>
<p>Guess not.</p>
<p>“Yeah, just tired,” he lies. He takes a few slow steps towards the doorway to the back room and David follows. “I should probably get back to Rach’s place so I can crash. I just dropped off my suitcase and came straight here. Can we talk tomorrow?”</p>
<p>“We can talk anytime, you know that. Just not -”</p>
<p>Patrick stops by the front door and turns back to David with a soft look.</p>
<p>“- Before 10am, I know.”</p>
<p>David steps in close and pulls him into another hug, a quicker one this time, but just as fierce as the first one. And all Patrick wants to do at this moment is grab David’s face and kiss the corner of his mouth as his heart seeps out in words unspoken for far too long. But he can’t. David will just get spooked. He needs time to prepare for that kind of emotional overload. Patrick needs to show that he’s here to stay first. </p>
<p>Taking this slow is going to be the hardest thing he’s ever done.</p>
<p>The bell above the door chimes as he steps through, but he stops when he hears David mutter a curse under his breath inside the store.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>Looking up from his phone, David has his <em> you’ve got to be kidding me </em>face on full and Patrick waits for an explanation.</p>
<p>“Sebastien Raine just commented on our photo on Instagram.”</p>
<p>“You’ve got to be kidding me.”</p>
<p>“Unfortunately not. I haven’t thought about him in years and honestly, secretly hoped he died or something, which is horrible, I know, but that guy was a real piece of shit.”</p>
<p>Patrick really doesn’t know what to do with this information, not even in the slightest.</p>
<p>“What did he say?”</p>
<p>“Oh, it’s nothing, Just forget about it.”</p>
<p>“David. Spill.”</p>
<p>Throwing his free hand in the air in an all too familiar display of his signature dramatics, David holds his phone up to his face to unlock it and hands it over to Patrick so he can read the comment himself.</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>Glad to see you two are back together. #CoupleGoals </em> </strong>
</p>
<p>Well fuck.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I can't thank you enough for the lovely comments you've left on this fic so far! Getting notices of new comments and kudos makes all the time I spent writing this in isolation all the more worth it. &lt;3 </p>
<p>You can find me on my tumblr - <a href="https://language-of-love.tumblr.com/">language-of-love</a>. :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Again, thanks for the insightful and lovely comments on this work so far. I truly appreciate it! </p><p>One note on this update: there is an image embedded in the second half of this chapter. If for any reason you are unable to see it or cannot read the text on the image, I've included a footnote right below it that you can click to read the text of the image. :) I'm slowly teaching myself coding on AO3 thanks to this fic!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>
  <b>August 30, 2016 - 3:00 pm - Three years ago</b>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“You know I can’t bake for you if you live almost 500 miles away, right?”</p><p>"Rach, trust me, that’s almost enough of a reason to make me stay.”</p><p>“So stay!”</p><p>“I can’t.”</p><p>“I know, I’m sorry. I’ll stop making you feel bad now.”</p><p>Rachel tucks her legs underneath herself at the base of Patrick’s bed and tries to tie her auburn hair into a knot, but it falls immediately, making her huff and Patrick affectionately shakes his head. God, he’s going to miss her. </p><p>“You’re not making me feel bad. I just need to get away and try something new.”</p><p>“Hopefully<em> someone </em> new, too. You know I love David, but if he’s not going to be the one to make you happy, you need to find the person who will.”</p><p>She’s not saying anything he doesn’t know deep, deep in his core, but it still stings to hear it said aloud. </p><p>“Yeah,” is all he can manage to mumble before turning back to his dresser for the last of his socks.</p><p>He’s spent the better part of a year in this emotional trauma that is loving David Rose. By the time he’d fully come to terms with his feelings, and even more importantly, his sexuality, David had already begun dating a Russian model, followed soon after by her brother. Patrick watched from the sidelines as he got hurt again, and again. And as the months passed, he’d slowly pulled away, lying and making excuses for why he couldn’t come over for movie night or why he didn’t show up for drinks. He was hiding and he knew it, but he kept doing it until he’d gone a full month without seeing David at all. It felt unnatural and his heart didn’t ache any less, but not seeing David in person at least stopped him from having to see someone else who doesn’t deserve him hanging on his arm or riding his coattails. </p><p>That one benefit had allowed Patrick to convince himself that leaving town would just be easier in the long run. So he found a new job in Toronto and broke his lease.</p><p>Rachel had torn him a new one when she’d initially found out.</p><p>
  <em> “What the fuck, Patrick? You’re just running away? If you don’t tell him how you feel, you aren’t giving him a reason to ask you to stay!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’m not running.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You are. Just like you tried to do with me. Did you ever think that maybe he only dates these losers because he’s convinced himself he doesn’t have a better option?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “He doesn’t see me as an option.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “How do you know that, Patrick? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I just know.” </em>
</p><p>He doesn’t though, not really. And there’s a part of him that will always wonder, but the alternative, finding out that he was right, it’s not a risk he’s currently willing to take. So yeah, Rachel’s correct. He’s running, again. And he’s not proud of it. He’s pretty ashamed of it actually, but he’s twisted himself up in such a tight knot that avoiding it just feels easier than untying it at this point.</p><p>“Too bad I don’t have a ring to sell this time for rent money.”</p><p>A pair of his jeans comes sailing through the air to smack him in the face and he hears a laugh from the floor.</p><p>“Too soon?”</p><p>“No. You know I’m over all that. Doesn’t mean you didn’t deserve that.”</p><p>Rachel had cornered him one night six months into their move to New York, placing herself between him and their front door so she could have the conversation he’d been avoiding for weeks. She’d told him that she knew he wasn’t happy and admitted that she wasn’t either, and they’d both cried and held each other and made promises to be there as they figured out what to do next. He’d been by her side as she went from bakery to bakery until one finally hired her, which honestly shouldn’t have taken as long as it did. She’s a marvel with some sugar and flour. And she’d been steadfast in his life as he’d taken the engagement ring she’d insisted on giving back and sold it for first and last month’s rent for a new apartment for himself and refocused on his classes. They were always meant to be this for each other, friends, nothing more. It just took them almost seven years to figure that out.</p><p>And it took him another five to really get a handle on why.</p><p>She’d pieced it all together much earlier.</p><p>The night he told her that he was in love with David, her first words were, “Honey, I know.”</p><p>Did he mention how much he’s going to miss her?</p><p>“Enough about me. Did they like your stout cake? I better see that on the menu when I come back to visit.”</p><p>“I think so. They said it takes a while before new menu items get approved, but I’m hopeful. I already have another idea for a gingersnap pumpkin tart that I hope to have ready before the fall.”</p><p>“You’re just trying to torture me now.”</p><p>“Yep, is it working?”</p><p>Instead of answering, he picks up the jeans she’d thrown at his head from the dresser and tosses it back at her, knocking her top knot loose again and sending her into a cursing fit.</p><p>She’s being so loud that he barely hears the knock on his front door. Leaving her to her huffing, he tosses a baseball cap over his unwashed hair and goes to look in the peephole. </p><p><em>Fuck</em>.</p><p>David is standing outside of his door with a bottle of wine.</p><p>He’d planned on showering and shaving and making himself look presentable for this moment and he’s wholly unprepared. But that’s just David’s way. Knocking him off balance at every possible opportunity.</p><p>His stomach has plummeted somewhere near his feet, but he opens the door and prepares to say goodbye to the only man he’ll ever love. Hopefully not, but that’s just how it feels right now.</p><p>“David, I thought we were meeting for drinks later?”</p><p>“We were,” David replies as he saunters past Patrick, “but I thought I’d see if you needed help packing.”</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>“No, but I figured we could hang out while you pack. We haven’t seen that much of each other lately and you’re abandoning me tomorrow.”</p><p>Panic begins to churn as Patrick worries that David will ask him more questions he doesn’t have a good answer for, in person, which is infinitely harder to avoid. Lying to David’s face is not something he’s mastered.</p><p>“Okay, sure, I’m just finishing up the bedroom. Rach is here…”</p><p>“Rach is actually leaving,” he hears from behind him and turns to see Rachel, keys in hand, stepping into David’s open arms for a quick hug. “You two have fun.”</p><p>“You don’t-” Patrick starts to say, but the look on Rachel’s face when she turns her back to David and aims her focus on Patrick shuts him up. She’s such a damn meddler.</p><p>“I’ll be here in the morning to wave at your U-Haul.”</p><p>“With danishes?”</p><p>Her small hands grab at Patrick’s wrists and she leans up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.</p><p>“Talk to him, Patrick,” she whispers.</p><p>A flush burns hot beneath his cheeks and he doesn’t have a response to that, so he just watches as she walks out the door laughing at David’s “Can I have a danish?” he’s called out after her.</p><p>The click of the door reminds him of the overdramatic sound of jail cells closing on prisoners you hear in movies, but that’s probably just because he’s feeling more than a little bit trapped. David is just there, standing a few feet away looking annoyingly perfect, so close, but so far away. </p><p>He must have been staring too long without speaking because David’s now letting out a huff and gesturing with his ridiculous white sunglasses towards the hallway. “To the bedroom then,” he orders, which honestly is just too much and Patrick dissolves into laughter.</p><p>“What’s so funny?”</p><p>There’s no way he can accurately explain, so he just makes an attempt at composing himself as he grabs David by the wrist and drags him towards his bedroom. </p><p>It takes David only about 4 minutes to start complaining.</p><p>“Please, Patrick, let me do a purge. Some of these are just...incorrect. Like these, what the fuck are these?”</p><p>The apparently offensive garment he’s holding up are Patrick’s gym shorts, nondescript blue with an elastic waistband.</p><p>“Gym shorts, David. I wear them to the gym.”</p><p>“I’ve seen enough thirst traps on Instagram to know that this is NOT what men wear to the gym. Please let me throw these away.”</p><p>Nothing good can come from taking this conversation any further, but he’s a glutton for punishment and can’t resist the banter. </p><p>“Okay, so what would you prefer I wear when I workout?”</p><p>David’s eyes go comically wide and his lips twist up in that crooked way that Patrick thinks about all the time and fuck, he’s nowhere near ready to say goodbye to this man. So why is he leaving?</p><p>“With that ass, bike shorts.”</p><p>What did he just say?</p><p>“Excuse me?”</p><p>“Oh please, Patrick,” David whines, stretching his long body out on the bed as he dramatically falls back against Patrick’s pillow. “You know you’ve got the best ass south of Broadway. I’d give you a few more blocks north, but you can’t compete with the queens in Kinky Boots.”</p><p>Finding out the man you’re desperately in love with has been checking out your ass is something no man can really be prepared for, even Patrick, who’s usually pretty quick on the uptake. </p><p>“I, uh, didn’t know you’d...formed an opinion about it.”</p><p>“You know me, I notice everything. It’s just too bad you aren’t into men. Women are criminally negligent in appreciating a man’s backside. Trust me, I have experience in both areas and have done a thorough comparison.”</p><p>Maybe it’s because he’s leaving tomorrow or maybe it’s just because there’s too many secrets he’s keeping and this one just needs to be let go, but he finally says the thing he’s been dying to say for almost a year.</p><p>“I’m gay, David.”</p><p>David shoots up into a sitting position like a whack-a-mole and Patrick would laugh, but he’s too overwhelmed by how good it fucking feels to finally have said that out loud. Jesus Christ, why did he wait so long? And why is it so damn hot in here?</p><p>“You’re wwwhhhaaat?” </p><p>“I meant to tell you a while ago, but, it took me some time to come to terms with it myself…”</p><p>“Hey,” David interrupts softly, drawing Patrick’s focus from where he’s staring intently at his hands up to David’s face. “Coming out is a personal thing that you do when you’re ready. No judgement here. Sorry, I was just...thrown off for a second. C’mere…”</p><p>He’s making gesturing motions for Patrick to join him on the bed and there isn’t enough strength in the world to keep Patrick from doing just that. His heart is pounding so hard it hurts, but he settles in next to David who’s pulling him into a one arm hug. The material of David’s sweatshirt is so incredibly soft against Patrick’s cheek and he indulges himself a little, burying his nose a little further into David’s shoulder as he allows himself to be held. David smells so good and his hand moving slowly along his back feels like home and maybe it’s not too late. Maybe he should just say what he feels. </p><p>Lifting his head, he tries to read David’s expression, but is distracted by just how close he is to David’s mouth. It would take just a inch or two of courage to finally learn what David tastes like, to feel the weight of his lips and get answers to the countless questions he’s been harboring alone.</p><p>He flinches a little when the cold metal of David’s rings touch his skin as David’s hand is suddenly cupping his cheek, but he immediately leans into the touch. </p><p>Is this actually happening?</p><p>“I wish I’d known.” </p><p>His eyes that had fluttered shut open again at David’s words and what he sees on David’s face is hard to discern. His mouth is turned up in a small smile, but it hasn’t reached his eyes and looks forced. He looks...he’s not sure, sad maybe? He’s known David for a long time, but he’s too stuck inside of what’s going on inside his own head to have the focus needed to decode what’s going on in David’s. </p><p>He’s still trying to think of what to say when David leans down and presses a soft kiss to his forehead and all of the anticipation of what could have been comes crashing down. You don’t kiss the forehead of someone you want to kiss on the lips. </p><p>The hand on his back stops moving and falls back to the mattress and Patrick knows the moment is lost.</p><p>All of those questions, they’ll just stay unanswered. </p><p>Maybe, with distance, he’ll find different ones with someone else and maybe then, he’ll have the courage to ask.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>September 14, 2019 - 6:45 am - Present Day</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>This is a nightmare.</p><p>The comments under David’s photo of the two of them have multiplied exponentially, as people from every corner of their lives and far beyond react to something neither of them ever intended to imply. Admittedly, David's inclusion of the heart emoji might be adding to the confusion as David is not an emoji person...usually. </p><p> </p><p><br/>
<a id="return1" name="return1"></a> <em>Image Text</em> <sup>[<a href="#note1">1</a>]</sup></p><p> </p><p>“How many likes are there now?”</p><p>“2690. Two thousand six hundred and ninety people now think David and I are a couple.”</p><p>“Jesus,” Rachel breathes as she lightly pounds the dough on her countertop, sending a cloud of flour into the air. “I knew David was kind of famous, but that’s ridiculous. I bet he wishes he’d never come back to social media now.”</p><p>“Gigi Hadid commented. I’m completely out of the loop with pop culture and even I know who that is. And she says she’s coming to his party and wants to meet us. I thought he was hosting a soft launch. A major fashion model does not come to a soft launch. And the fabric store from Project Runway is posting rainbow emojis and declaring love is love. A fabric store? And frands? What the fuck does that mean? Is that code for something?”</p><p>“It took you longer to get through that rant than it took me to roll out my dough. Breathe please.”</p><p>Patrick listens. Dropping his phone on the countertop in front of where he’s perched on a stool across from Rachel, he closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths. He gets three in before his eyes start to burn and he’s sure he’s going to start crying any second now. The knot in his stomach squeezes a little tighter and he lets all the defeat beginning to bubble up inside of him spill from his lips.</p><p>“I never should have come back here.”</p><p>“Fuck that. You're not going anywhere. And actually, one could argue that your plan to make David fall in love with you worked a little too well if you’re already Instagram official.”</p><p>He knows Rachel is trying to make him laugh, which is appreciated, but he doesn’t. He can’t. Everything feels jumbled up now. Shaking his head, he squeezes his eyes shut a little tighter, but jolts back off his stool when something ricochets off the side of his head.</p><p>“Did you just throw bread dough at me?” he asks, incredulous and to his own dismay, a little bit amused.</p><p>“No, I threw cinnamon roll dough. Now, take a deep breath and put the brakes on any thoughts of hightailing it back to Toronto. We just need to call David and come up with some sort of plan.”</p><p>Yes, a plan. He’s good with making plans. If he had his laptop here at Rachel’s bakery he’d open a new spreadsheet so he can put the commenters in columns so he could sort them by importance of who to contact first. </p><p>“It’s 6:45 in the morning. David won’t be useful for at least three hours.”</p><p>“God, his 10am rule is so annoying. Some of us have to get up at 5am and we do just fine.” </p><p>Rachel’s humor is finally starting to settle Patrick’s nerves and he smiles over at her in thanks. She nods, obviously understanding what he’s trying to say with the gesture. He needs to focus on something else for a while and he’s here, with Rachel, in this bakery where she’s worked her way up to head baker while he’s been in Toronto and he needs to be present with her for a while. Check in with his friend who he’s missed every single day he’s been away. This drama with David, he’ll shelve it for three hours. He can compartmentalize.</p><p>“So, when do I get to meet Mark?”</p><p>Rachel’s alabaster skin flushes pink and the pain that formed from years of hurting her that’s found a permanent home in his heart lessens a little. She’s happy, happier than he’s ever seen her and it makes him feel good that maybe he’s done at least one thing right in his life by letting her go.</p><p>“I don’t know, soon I guess?”</p><p>“When’s soon?” he prods, leaning forward onto his hands on the counter to give her an impatient stare.</p><p>“I dunno, leave me alone!”</p><p>He could keep up the banter, but he’s not really interested in getting pelted with more dough. And he actually just wants to be honest with her right now.</p><p>“Love looks good on you, Rach.”</p><p>She doesn’t say anything right away, but he can see that she is smiling down at her hands, so he knows he’s said the right thing. He watches as she grabs a spatula from her jar and starts to spread softened butter over the rolled out dough.</p><p>“Thanks, I think so, too.”</p><p>It’s relaxing watching Rachel roll and cut her dough with expert precision, her tiny fingers working with confidence built from endless hours of practice. She’s a testament to what can be accomplished when you set your mind on something you want and never give up. Her encouragement for him to do the same is a big reason he’s back in New York. </p><p>“You know,” Rachel says, “David asked me about Ken.”</p><p>Patrick’s chin slips off his hand at this new information and he has to grab the edge of the counter to retain his balance on his stool.</p><p>“When? Why?”</p><p>“A few weeks ago, he…” Rachel sees the look of incredulousness that has fallen over Patrick’s face and just shrugs, tucks away a small smile, before continuing. “He asked if you two still talked and I told him the truth.”</p><p>“So, you told him no.”</p><p>“Yes, I told him no.”</p><p>Ken had been a mistake. Patrick had met him at a bar back in the spring with his work friends and he’d taken his number when offered unsolicited. He’d had no intention of calling him, but had tested the waters with David on a phone call. He mentioned the encounter and David had urged him to call him and yeah, it had been a big mistake. Hurt and spite from that call with David was not a good reason to start a relationship and the few dates he and Ken shared were lackluster at best. He was a sweet guy with a great smile and stupid shoes and Patrick wished he’d felt a spark of something, anything. But it was doomed from the start and things ended before they really began. Other than the occasional like on Facebook, their presence in each other’s lives has all but disappeared since early in the summer. </p><p>“I wonder why he asked?”</p><p>This new information is unexpected, more than likely innocuous, but just the thing to fan that tiny flame of hope that maybe his feelings aren’t one sided.</p><p>“Do you really?”</p><p>Rachel’s hands move to her hips and she looks at him in that way that he registers immediately as encouraging, but still a little bit frustrated. She’s been telling him for months that she’s convinced David’s harboring feelings for him, too, but Patrick’s too logical and inherently skeptical to take that information in. He needs to see tangible evidence. </p><p>“We’ll see, Rach. We’ll see…”</p><p>“I’m going to say this one more time and then I’ll shut up about it. Whenever I see David, all he talks about is you. Stevie and I started a drinking game where we took a sip of our drinks every time your name came up in conversation, but had to put the kibosh on it after too many killer hangovers. I’m glad you’re home, Patrick, for both of your sakes. And for the health of my liver.” </p><p>Patrick feels buoyed by hearing this little speech, again, and he slides off his stool to walk over and give Rachel a hug. He doesn’t really know how to take in this abstract possibility of David loving him back, but just the idea of it is enough to keep him moving forward with his plan, despite this Instagram debacle that’s attempting to derail it.</p><p>“I’m getting flour on your shirt,” Rachel mumbles into Patrick’s chest, but he just hugs her a little bit tighter. </p><p>“You can make up for it by saving me a cinnamon roll.”</p><p>“Deal.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><a id="note1" name="note1"></a>1<sup>1</sup>Instagram Post Text<br/>DavidRose: Reunited 🖤<br/>sebastienraine: Glad to see you two are back together. #CoupleGoals<br/>AlexisRose: Back together? BACK TOGETHER? You two hooked up and no one told me? Patrick! You button faced cutie, I love this for you both. David. You have some explaining to do.<br/>sbudd: I step out of the store for 5 minutes and you suddenly have a boyfriend?<br/>GigiHadid: Adorable! David, I can’t wait to meet him at your party!<br/>USWeekly: Fashion designer, David Rose, sparks things up again with an old flame? Read all the juicy details on our page.<br/>Ray.Butani: Patrick, this is such wonderful news! I look forward to hearing all about it at the office. And David, if you need storage solutions for your new venture, please visit my website: www.raybutani.biz.<br/>Nina Garcia: 🖤<br/>Rose_Johnny: 🖾 🖾 🖾 🖾<br/>moodfabrics: #LoveisLove ️🌈<br/>Moira.Rose: Alexis, how do I leave a comment? #Frands<sup>[<a href="#return1">return to text</a>]</sup></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Surprise! I couldn't wait to get this next chapter up, so you get back-to-back updates. Things are about to get interesting... </p>
<p>(thanks again for the amazing comments! I grin from ear to ear each time I get that email notification.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>May 3, 2017 - Two and a half years ago</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Page Six - On the Town: </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Rose Video magnate, Johnny Rose, and his famous family were spotted clinking champagne at The Plaza after the case brought by his former business manager was dismissed late yesterday. The failed effort to steal credit for the video empire was thwarted by the once distant family hunkering down here in New York City with locked arms in support of Mr. Rose. Rumor has it Alexis Rose is nesting at her brother’s apartment in SoHo, but the famously flighty heiress is not known for keeping those wings clipped for long. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <b>February 15, 2018 - 6:15 pm - One and a half years ago</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bundling his coat a little tighter around his chest, Patrick dodges a group of teenagers with their heads buried in their phones and almost slips on a deflated heart shaped mylar balloon at the bottom of his stoop. It’s a little too on the nose for how he’s feeling, so he has to laugh to himself as he swipes his fob over the sensor and pushes himself into the blissful warmth of his building’s entryway. It’s a modest place with four floors of apartments full of families and couples and single people like himself - a good place to call home, or at least rest his head, as he continues to try to figure out where home really is.</p>
<p>An enticing aroma of onions and garlic hits his nose as he steps out of the elevator onto his floor and his stomach growls in anticipation, knowing that smell means a visit later by Mrs. Mwangi. She’s this joyous older woman from Kenya who lives down the hall and has deemed Patrick her adopted <em>mwana</em>, feeding him at least twice a week, always unannounced. It makes Patrick miss his parents every time she leaves. That reminds him, he needs to confirm their arrival time on Saturday so he can book the hotel.</p>
<p>His coat and scarf are deposited on the hat tree inside the door and he plops down on his couch with his phone and toes his work shoes off onto the parquet floor. The long day at his office begins to unfurl as he stretches his legs and scrolls through his contacts to dial his father. </p>
<p>A FaceTime request from David pops up before he’s hit the call button next to Clint’s name.</p>
<p>Patrick wonders if his stomach will ever stop flipping over like this every single time David calls, but he knows that’s a stupid question. He really should stop pretending as if anything has changed about the way he feels about the man on the other end of his phone.</p>
<p>There’s no question about whether or not he’ll answer, so he does.</p>
<p>After accepting the call there’s a bit of commotion on David’s video and all he can see is black and white fabric pressed against the lens and hear David’s muffled voice declaring “I will murder you faster than you murdered my Tamagotchis if you don’t get your hands off that fabric, Alexis.”</p>
<p>It’s a lot to take in all at once, but he’s used to this with David and just settles in and waits for his face to appear on the screen. It provides him with a welcome extra minute to calm his nerves.</p>
<p>“Sorry, sorry, cashmere emergency. I’m here.”</p>
<p>David’s face fills the small screen and Patrick’s smile is immediate and thankfully returned just as quickly, even though David’s makes Patrick heart ache with longing to see it more often.</p>
<p>“Hey.”</p>
<p>Smooth, Patrick. </p>
<p>“Hi! Sorry for FaceTiming unannounced, it’s just, I have some news and I needed to talk to you. Are you, I mean, can you chat?”</p>
<p>“Always, David. What’s going on?”</p>
<p>“Oh, thank god. Let me just, hang on. Alexis! Come say hi to Patrick so you can leave.”</p>
<p>The video swivels so fast Patrick has to close his eyes to avoid getting dizzy and when he blinks them open again he sees David’s sister Alexis leaning in to the camera with a blinding grin.</p>
<p>“Hi! I’ve missed that face!” As expected, she pushes her finger onto the front of David’s phone mimicking her signature nose boop and immediately, nostalgia for the life he left back in New York hits him square in the chest. </p>
<p>“Missed you, too. What’s going on?”</p>
<p>“There’s this thing that David’s...HEY!”</p>
<p>The phone goes all topsy turvy again and Patrick holds his own phone out further away from his face to shield his ears from the inevitable chaos.</p>
<p>“You’re such a dick, David!”</p>
<p>He can’t hear David’s response, but he’s sure it isn’t nice. The two of them fight like cats and dogs, but they’d lie in front of a train for the other without question and they both know it. It’s a strange, but endearing relationship. Being an only child, he’s always wondered if all siblings are like this behind closed doors or if the Rose Family is just a breed unto itself.</p>
<p>There’s a loud slam in the distance and suddenly David is back on the screen, rolling his eyes and sighing.</p>
<p>“Okay, where were we?”</p>
<p>“Nice to see that some things never change,” Patrick says. </p>
<p>“Whatever. I’m glad she’s here, but I need some space.”</p>
<p>Usually spread out across the globe, David’s family decided to stay in the same place for a while after the trial and make an effort to spend time, get to know each other better. Alexis has been crashing in the guest room of David’s flat the entire time, so he’s sure it’s driving David more than a little bit crazy at this point. </p>
<p>“Anyway, I’m calling because I’m going to need your help with some paperwork and to get some business advice. I’m in the very early stages of putting together a business plan to open my own bespoke clothing boutique, mostly menswear, with a few unisex designs.”</p>
<p>“David! It’s about time! Tell me everything.” He’s so proud right now he could burst. This has been all David’s wanted since they first met, but there’s always been one reason or another it never came together.</p>
<p>Patrick settles back into his couch and listens intently as David, somewhat wistfully, tells the story of how his dreams have started to come true. With his father living in the same city, David had started dropping a few hints about his idea whenever they met up for dinner, which eventually had led to a real conversation between David and Johnny about how to start a business. And many lunches with Moira where she talked a lot about herself, but gave critical feedback on David’s initial designs. And Alexis, well, he complained about her again for another ten minutes. But he also talked about how she’d appear with coffee at all hours of the morning when he’d fallen asleep next to his sketches or that one time she’d dropped a list of male models’ contact information for his lookbook on his desk, typed neatly on blush pink paper. She’d just been there, which for David, was something he’d always wanted. His sister was more often than not somewhere far away, fleeting in and out of David’s life like a butterfly riding the wind. </p>
<p>“I’ve never known her to stay in one place this long before. It’s crazy. My life feels the same, but somehow completely different. I don’t know, I can’t really explain it.”</p>
<p>“You’ve done a pretty good job of explaining it just now.” He’s sure his voice sounds a bit wistful, but he can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy at not being a part of it all.</p>
<p>“The only thing missing in all this is you.”</p>
<p>What? God, David can’t say things like that unless he really means it. </p>
<p>Looking closely at David’s face, Patrick tries to catch a glimpse of what he needs to see, but David shifts his eyes away too soon and he turns his head away from the camera.</p>
<p>“I mean, to help, with all this business paperwork,” he says as he gestures behind him towards his desk.</p>
<p>
  <em> Is that all you need me for? </em>
</p>
<p>“And because it doesn’t feel the same in this city without you,” David says. </p>
<p>This time, he doesn’t look away and neither does Patrick. </p>
<p>“David, I…”</p>
<p>“I know, I know. I need to stop making you feel bad. I’m not sorry though, so you’ll just have to deal with it.”</p>
<p>Patrick chuckles because he doesn’t trust himself to speak just yet. They keep having these moments that he just can’t seem to act fast enough to get a grip on. He’s starting to wonder if he’s imagining that they’re even happening at all.</p>
<p>“So, anyway, I’ll email you the first batch of paperwork and you can tell me what I’ve done wrong, okay?”</p>
<p>“Of course, you know I’ll do anything to help.”</p>
<p>“I know.”</p>
<p>There’s a sharp knock on his door that makes Patrick flinch and the hand holding his phone out shake.</p>
<p>“Whoa, you okay over there?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, sorry,” Patrick says, “someone’s at my door. Can you hang on a second?”</p>
<p>David nods and Patrick sets his phone on the coffee table to answer the door.</p>
<p>It’s Mrs. Mwangi with a Tupperware container full of her delicious stewed beef and fresh chapati wrapped in tin foil. It’s his favorite and he has a sneaking suspicion she made it because she knew he just went through Valentine’s Day alone and he gathers her in a big hug and kisses her cheek in thanks. Even with her rich brown skin he’s sure he sees a blush pinking her cheeks when she pulls away. She’s shuffling back down the hall soon after, calling back over her shoulder that she’ll see him on Friday for the Escape Room. She’s still salty that he found the clue that got them out last time.</p>
<p>When he’s back on his couch and picking up the phone again, he’s smiling from ear to ear.</p>
<p>“Are you actually friends with your neighbors?” David sounds so incredulous that Patrick bursts out with a laugh.</p>
<p>“A few, yes. Is that so hard to believe?”</p>
<p>“Uh, yeah. The only interaction I’ve ever had with my neighbor was when we shared an eye roll in the elevator when we got trapped for a few floors with this woman trying to sell her friend some essential oils for her pyramid scheme. I mean, who falls for that shit?”</p>
<p>“Weren’t you into essential oils at one…”</p>
<p>“Not important,” David interrupts. “Anyway, tell me more about your neighbors. Do you guys have game nights? Murder mystery parties?”</p>
<p>“No, but those are really good ideas. I’ll add them to our group text chain.”</p>
<p>David cringes and Patrick laughs and man, he’s missed ruffling David’s feathers.</p>
<p>“I’m only letting that go because I know you’re lying. If you’re not, I don’t want to know. How’s work?”</p>
<p>That’s a complicated question. He’s making decent money working for the city of Toronto in their small business start-up division, but he’s been having trouble connecting to his work. It’s probably because he feels so disconnected from his own life.</p>
<p>“Busy,” he hedges, “nothing too interesting to report.”</p>
<p>“You seemed so excited about it the last time we talked. Has something changed?” </p>
<p>Not everyone in David’s life sees this side of him and it makes Patrick feel warm inside knowing he’s one of the rare people who gets a glimpse. He’s nurturing and thoughtful and the best listener that Patrick has in his life, next to Rachel. Maybe he should trust himself and David enough to be honest?</p>
<p>“I’m feeling, I don’t know, a little untethered. I’m not sure how to explain it really.”</p>
<p>“Are you meeting people, other than your neighbors? Are you lonely?”</p>
<p>
  <em> Every day without you. </em>
</p>
<p>“You know me, David. I’m pretty social. I’ve made some friends.”</p>
<p>David doesn’t respond right away and Patrick thinks about what he’s just said. Sure, he’s befriended some co-workers and they’ve gone out for drinks and karaoke, but there’s no one he looks forward to seeing. No one he wakes up excited to call or invite over to hang out. He’s even gone on a few dates, but none of them felt right and he left the evenings without as much as a kiss goodnight. Well, there was one date that went much further than a kiss, but that was just a <em> lets get this over with </em> kind of thing and Patrick regretted it immediately.</p>
<p>“Sounds like you haven’t found your Toronto-based David Rose yet.”</p>
<p>If only.</p>
<p>“David, you’re one-of-a-kind. I don’t think I’ll ever meet anyone else like you, anywhere.”</p>
<p>“So I haven’t been replaced yet? That’s good to know. Means I still have a chance at wooing you back home.”</p>
<p>“Wooing huh?”</p>
<p>“Yes, I can woo. Just the other day I wooed the barista into giving me an extra shot of espresso in my macchiato.”</p>
<p>“Oh no, that’s too much for you.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, it was a bad idea. Alexis came home to me color-coding my knits at 2 am.”</p>
<p>“How do you color code a black and white wardrobe?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know, Patrick, how many blue shirts do you own again?”</p>
<p>As their conversation goes on for another hour, Patrick finds himself thankful for both his unlimited data plan and the comfort just spending time with David always brings. Even through the little screen of his phone, he feels seen and heard, especially during their silences when nothing needs to be said at all. When he finally says goodnight, he’s surprised to find that he’s sweaty and flushed like he ran a few miles. He hadn’t really registered how his body had been reacting to this long-overdue alone time with David.</p>
<p>Rinsing off in the shower, he braces his hands on the wall and places his forehead against the cool tiles, watching the water drip from his chin into the swirl of water at his feet. He’s been here in Toronto for a year and a half and it’s still David, five hundred miles away, who makes him feel the most alive. </p>
<p>It’s not something he does often, because it’s indulgent and unhealthy, but he lets his mind wander as the hot water pelts his skin. As he moves one hand off the wall to settle between his legs, he pretends it’s David’s fingers slipping in the suds as he grips his cock and imagines what David’s voice would sound like whispering against his ear, low at first, then higher as he urges Patrick to go faster. </p>
<p>And he does. </p>
<p>And it feels too good. </p>
<p>
  <em> Too good to be true. </em>
</p>
<p>And then it’s over.</p>
<p>And he’s alone.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <b>September 14, 2019 - 10:00 am - Present Day</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He probably should have just called, but he’s been up for hours and needs to see David in person, see his face, read his emotions, be in his space. That last thing is just a general need that’s always lingering. And Rachel’s prodding from this morning at the bakery has definitely given him a tiny boost of confidence.</p>
<p>Knocking loudly on the glass, he waits on the front step to see if David’s in the store, unsure of where he’s living now and hopeful to find him here. It’s a bright morning, so he can’t really see inside all that well, but it doesn’t take long for a dark blur to appear, moving quickly towards the door. David’s pushing it open a mere second later.</p>
<p>“What took you so long to get here? Don’t you understand we’re in the middle of a crisis?”</p>
<p>Patrick allows himself to be dragged into the store, a little bit dumbstruck and still getting accustomed to David’s energy again. David’s also looking particularly gorgeous this morning, the final dregs of summer having given his skin a warm glow, which is on full display thanks to the kilt he has on. Or is it a skirt? With David, you never know, but it always looks amazing.</p>
<p>“It’s just now 10 o’clock, I figured you’d…”</p>
<p>David’s hands are flailing and he’s doing that full body wiggle thing he does when he’s really frustrated, which just makes Patrick smile, which he knows will make David even more annoyed.</p>
<p>“I’ve been up since 8:30, Patrick. Who could sleep in on a morning like this?”</p>
<p>He loves that David thinks 8:30 is early. </p>
<p>“I’d offer to go get us some coffee so we can sit down and make a plan, but it really doesn't seem like you need any more caffeine.”</p>
<p>“And I <em> really </em> don’t need your sass.”</p>
<p>There’s something calming about this moment for Patrick, seeing David spin out, it gives him purpose. He thrives in this space. He’s missed being here.</p>
<p>“It’s okay, David. We’ll figure this out. How many people have you heard from outside of the Instagram post?”</p>
<p>“Every single person I’ve ever met. Except for exes who ghosted me, but I fully expect them to resurface any second now.”</p>
<p>“Why don’t you just make a new post telling everyone that we’re just friends and to mind their own business? Is that…?”</p>
<p>“Normally, yes, that is something I would do. But I’m a week out from my launch party and I don’t need US Weekly, or whatever other press has picked this story up, to do a follow-up about how “David Rose’s new fashion venture is doomed to fail, just like his love life. Ex-lover scorns his flagrant advances”.</p>
<p>David collapses from exhaustion back against the counter and buries his hands into his hair, eyes tired and mouth downturned from working himself up.</p>
<p>“They wouldn’t.”</p>
<p>Patrick has to believe this is all an exaggeration. No one would actually care about this for more than a day, right? His frustration earlier this morning was more about the situation itself, not the ramifications outside of his own relationship with David.</p>
<p>“Oh, they would. Did you read what US put on their Instagram feed? Someone managed to dig up a photo of us at that club opening years ago and they wrote veritable fan fiction about our torrid love affair. This is what gossip rags do, Patrick, you should know this by now. They’re vultures.”</p>
<p>Fuck.</p>
<p>That calm feeling from a minute ago, it’s gone now.</p>
<p>Needing a moment to collect his thoughts, he turns his back to David and wanders towards the jewelry display on the wall. It’s mainly large rings like the ones David’s always worn, but there’s a few bracelets and necklaces as well. The silver shines from the light streaming in the window and it reminds Patrick of a morning many years ago, when David’s rings had caught a similar light as he’d stood next to Rachel, still rumpled from sleep, there to wave goodbye as Patrick drove away from New York City. It always meant so much to him that David roused himself that morning to be there.</p>
<p>“Please tell me you have a plan, Patrick.”</p>
<p>Looking over at David, still slumped against the counter, he realizes that maybe he does. But it’s a bad one. One he really doesn’t want to suggest, not because he doesn’t think it will work, but because he’ll be sacrificing what’s left of his heart if it has any chance to succeed. </p>
<p>“We fake it.”</p>
<p>The words are out of his mouth before he can take them back.</p>
<p>David straightens, takes a step forward and stops and slowly turns his head to look out the window.</p>
<p>“I can’t ask you to do that,” he says, almost too softly for Patrick to hear. “Again.”</p>
<p>Sinking his hands deep in his pockets, Patrick crosses the store to stand in front of David and patiently waits for his friend to look at him. When he does, he almost wishes he’d look away again. He’d forgotten what it feels like to get truly caught in David Rose’s gaze.</p>
<p>“You didn’t ask me, I offered. It’s just one night. We did it once, we can do it again.”</p>
<p>And it will kill me, he thinks to himself, knowing he should stop this before it really starts. But he wants to help. It’s what he knows how to do. </p>
<p>“Last time, none of our friends and family were there to see it. No one knew but us and Sebastien. This is different.”</p>
<p>“That’s true,” Patrick concedes, feeling a tinge of relief that David will say no and this isn’t going to happen. That relief dissipates quickly though, replaced almost immediately with a sense of loss of what could have been. Would he really welcome a night of pretending versus nothing at all?</p>
<p>“We’d have to...uh...sell it more, you know?” David says under his breath.</p>
<p>David shifts his eyes away again, which is a good thing, as Patrick definitely didn’t school his reaction to that observation appropriately.</p>
<p>“Sell it? You mean, physically?”</p>
<p>“Yes Patrick,” David breathes out in a huff. “You’d have to touch me and pretend it’s something you enjoy.”</p>
<p>Whoa, where did that come from? Why does he sound so hurt?</p>
<p>Reaching forward, Patrick takes a soft hold of David’s biceps and gives him a little squeeze, stepping in close enough that he can smell David’s cologne in the air between them. It’s intoxicating, something new, something sexier.</p>
<p>“That’s not a challenge, David. It’s not like you’re covered in scales or something,” he jokes, needing to keep this light and far, far away from what he really wants to say. </p>
<p>
  <em> I want to touch you all the time. Can I touch you everywhere? </em>
</p>
<p>“Not the last time I checked anyway,” David retorts.</p>
<p>David’s back looking at Patrick again and he’s making an attempt at a smile, so Patrick tries to see if they can make a plan.</p>
<p>“Okay, for one night, we act like we’re in love. Hold hands, tell stories of our first dates, charm the pants off whatever press happens to be around and get through it together.”</p>
<p>“And kiss, we’ll probably have to kiss at some point. You know Alexis. There’s no way we’re getting out of the night without locking lips for an audience.”</p>
<p>Of course they will. Instagram couplings are nothing if not performative.</p>
<p>There’s a list, a never-ending list of ways Patrick imagined kissing David for the first time. Nowhere, not even scribbled in the margins, does this scenario make an appearance.</p>
<p>“Is kissing me a deal breaker?”</p>
<p>He shouldn’t have asked that, but long wondered questions apparently have a way of slipping out. </p>
<p>“I’ve kissed thousands of people, so no, I think I can handle it.”</p>
<p>It stings a little having David talk about kissing him like it’s nothing. For him, it would be everything. </p>
<p>Dropping his hands from David’s arms, he takes a step back while he nods. If they’re going to do this, he needs to view it as a business transaction and nothing more. After it’s over, he’ll resume his plan, get them back on the right track.</p>
<p>“Okay, we’re doing this then,” Patrick says. “We should probably come up with some stories about how this all happened so we’re on the same page.”</p>
<p>“Keeping things as close to the truth is probably safest. Let’s just say that we were best friends for years and when you moved away I missed you more than I expected to, so when you came back, I…I kissed you and we realized we were both in love and happily ever after, the end.”</p>
<p>Patrick feels a little winded. It’s like David crawled into his dreams and wrote the perfect ending to their love story, their love story that doesn’t exist. His declaration of treating this as just a business transaction from mere seconds ago goes flying straight out the window. He has to ask.</p>
<p>“Did you miss me more than you expected to?”</p>
<p>David huffs out a sigh and turns on his heel to walk towards the counter, but Patrick follows him, not letting him get away with leaving that question unanswered.</p>
<p>His brisk “No” comes out sharply before David disappears into the backroom.</p>
<p>No? <em> Oh. </em> Okay then.</p>
<p>But then, David’s back again with his hands on his hips, frustration evident from the set of his eyes to the angle of his jaw.</p>
<p>“I missed you exactly how much I expected to, Patrick. A whole fucking lot. Is that what you wanted to hear?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Patrick breathes out in relief, “it is. I missed you a whole fucking lot, too.”</p>
<p>“Then you have to promise me something, Patrick.”</p>
<p>He’s not sure he’s in a state to promise anything right now, but he nods anyway.</p>
<p>“If we do this, you can’t leave again. We’ll get through it, do a fake breakup or whatever and you’ll be here, in this city, by my side. I know I’m not good at expressing how I feel, but having you back in my life is important to me.”</p>
<p>Patrick doesn’t trust himself to reply to all of that with what’s really in his heart, so he does the next best thing. Walking forward quickly, he pulls David into a hug, letting out a long breath as David’s arms wrap immediately over his shoulders to pull him in tighter.</p>
<p>“I promise, David.”</p>
<p>He’s not going anywhere, even when this whole thing ends in a complete disaster.</p>
<p>“Good,” David says as he pulls back from the hug, quickly moving his hands from Patrick’s arms to frame both of his cheeks. “There’s just one thing we need to do.”</p>
<p>Confusion transitions to absolute internal panic as David’s eyes flick down to Patrick’s lips and the mental calculations all come together to tell him that David is about to kiss him. He wants it, but he doesn’t, both at the same time.</p>
<p>David’s still smiling when his lips brush Patrick’s and it’s a cellular thing, the way his body reacts to something he’s wanted for years. His heart pounds and his temperature spikes and his stomach flips just as if this was a real kiss, but his head, it’s swimming with alarm bells that this is wrong. But he doesn’t pull away, because as much as he’s wanted this to be different, it’s still happening, now, like this, and he makes a compromise with himself that this is better than the alternative of it never happening at all.</p>
<p>So he leans into it, smiling faintly at the way David’s lip balm makes their lips slip a little, remembers to breathe when David’s ring scrapes along the scruff on his chin, and somehow stays on his feet when David pulls away entirely too soon.</p>
<p>It wasn’t the first kiss he’d imagined, but it doesn’t mean it wasn’t life changing.</p>
<p>“Wanted to get that out of the way?” he manages to say, pushing through the turmoil swirling like a tornado in his belly.</p>
<p>“Figured it was a good idea. Can’t be kissing for the first time like awkward teenagers in front of Stevie. She’d sniff us out in a hot second.”</p>
<p>Stepping back for his sanity, Patrick turns away, too afraid to see what David’s face is doing. Seeking out the depths of his pockets again so he can dig his palms into his thighs, he shifts his focus to the front of the store. There’s also the issue of the erection threatening to spring to life in his jeans that he does his best to rearrange without being seen.</p>
<p>“Speaking of Stevie, am I ever going to meet her? I thought she works here?”</p>
<p>“She does. I told her to take the morning off so I could freak out in private. She’s off securing wine for the party, so I probably won’t see her until tomorrow since I’m sure she’s picking some up for herself, too.”</p>
<p>He laughs, which feels good as it releases a few knots of tension that’s coiled up around his throat. But, he still thinks it’s a good idea if he makes his exit. There’s a lot he needs to think about and he needs to work the pieces of this all out in his head before he tries to explain to Rachel what he’s just agreed to. Well, not agreed to, offered up. He’ll find some way of wording it so it doesn’t sound like the absolute worst idea he’s ever had.</p>
<p>“I look forward to meeting her eventually, I guess. I, uh, I need to swing by my new office. My boss should have the keys for my new apartment…”</p>
<p>“I thought you were doing business consulting, not real estate?”</p>
<p>“Oh, I am. Ray’s a bit of a jack-of-all-trades apparently. He says it’s how he affords to maintain an office in Manhattan. Never not working on something new.”</p>
<p>“He’s a hustler, I can respect that.”</p>
<p>Patrick’s not sure if Ray would use that terminology, but he’s sure he’d appreciate the sentiment.</p>
<p>“Yeah, me too. I’ll call you, tomorrow I guess?”</p>
<p>“You can call me anytime you want.”</p>
<p>Patrick smiles at this well worn phrase and walks towards the door. </p>
<p>“Anytime, Patrick. Even before 10 am,” David calls out after him, prompting Patrick to look back at him in surprise.</p>
<p>“But not before 9. Even with my fake boyfriend I have to draw the line somewhere.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>September 14, 2019 - 4:30 pm - Present Day</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The phone rings just three times before his Mom’s voice is echoing happily in his ear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh Patrick, I’ve been dying to hear from you! Let me get your father. Clint! It’s Patrick!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi Mom.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Honey, I’m just so happy for you and David. It’s so soon though, you have to tell us how it all played out. Wait, okay, you’re on speakerphone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Guys, I have a lot to explain. Things are...complicated.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>December 23, 2016, 11:00 am - Three years ago</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The tea in his mug has gone cold as he’s stared into it, his gaze focused on the tiny flecks of loose leaves that have escaped from the bag spinning in the whirlpool he’s created with his spoon. The knot in his stomach has tightened with every day he’s been here and he knows the moment has to come now if he’s to make it through Christmas without an ulcer. Dropping his spoon, it clunks loudly against his mother’s bluebell adorned tea cup and he cringes, thankful to not see a chip left behind in its wake. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pushes himself off the chair he’s been glued to for the last hour and stretches his legs, the soft material of his worn in flannel pajamas providing a small ounce of comfort in this very uncomfortable moment. It’s time to talk to his parents.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shuffling down the hallway, he peeks into the den and finds his mom reading something on her iPad and his dad half napping, half watching a cooking show on the television. They’re the epitome of non-threatening normalcy, so why does this conversation terrify him so much? He knows, deep down, that they’ll accept him no matter what, but it doesn’t mean that everything will be the same after either. But maybe that’s the whole point? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you watching, Dad?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clint blinks awake and sits up quickly in his recliner and Patrick shares a knowing eyebrow raise with his mom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, some show about the best BBQ joints in the States. Why, did you want to watch something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, no, I was hoping I could talk to you both about something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His mom’s response of “You can tell us anything...” comes out quickly and with this sing-song quality that sounds strange to Patrick’s ears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The television clicks off and he looks over to his dad, the person whose eyes he doesn’t want to see looking at him any differently once he knows. Stepping further into the room, he settles in next to his mom on the couch and looks down at his hands. He’d rehearsed a few different ways of leading into this, but nothing feels right now that he’s here, so...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m gay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Okay, that’s not an option he practiced, but it gets the job done. Apparently just getting right to the point is his go-to for coming out?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Except he’s pretty sure he’s going to pass out if he doesn’t breathe soon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His mother’s soft fingers are on his wrist, pulling his hands from the vice grip they have on each other and he looks over at her with wary eyes. She’s smiling. And she’s holding his hand now and pulling their joined fingers onto her lap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Honey, you’re the only thing that matters to us and we love you so much.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Turning towards his dad, Patrick sees him pushing himself up from his recliner and walking over with his hand outstretched. Tears fall hot on Patrick’s cheek as he takes his father’s hand, his tall frame sinking onto the couch on Patrick’s other side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It means a lot that you felt comfortable telling us, son.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t know how,” Patrick admits as guilt lingers over him in the wake of his parents’ outright acceptance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes fall shut when his mom leans in and presses a soft kiss to his temple, her free hand coming up to gently cup his cheek.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re just glad you finally did.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Me too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wait. Finally?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leaning back out of his mother’s touch, he looks at her with wild-eyed confusion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hang on, you knew?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looks over his head at his dad, so he swivels his head to do the same, hoping to get some answers from his expression. But he just shrugs and doesn’t say a word. So, it’s back to his mom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mom?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine, we didn’t know, per se, but we had...suspicions.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This is too much information for his brain to process, but he needs to know more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For how long?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The last couple of years I guess?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pulling his hands free from his parents’ grip, he pushes to his feet and walks a few feet away to lean against the mantle as he tries to catch up with his life that’s barreled ten feet ahead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But, I’ve been away, what made you…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“David.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hearing his father speak David’s name is so unexpected that Patrick isn’t sure it’s actually happened. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“David?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Forgive me if I’m speaking out of turn here, son, but you’ve talked about David Rose more than you ever spoke of Rachel in the seven years you were together. Your mother and I assumed that maybe…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m in love with him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick meant that to sound like a question, but it didn’t come out of his mouth that way. It’s a statement of fact and that’s exactly what his parents have just heard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If David makes you happy, that’s all we care about,” his mom says quickly, obviously wanting Patrick to know that they are fully on board.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He doesn’t know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, why did you leave New York without telling him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This question comes from his dad and if he wasn’t so despaired at not having a good answer to it, he’d be reeling at how casual he’s asking him about his love for another man. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not that easy, Dad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Except that it could have been. And when he catches his dad’s gaze from across the room, the look they exchange confirms his dad’s skepticism at Patrick’s declaration. Since he was a boy, Patrick’s been that kid that always goes for what we wants, full steam ahead. It's that same drive that brought him to New York to begin with. But this thing, with David, it’s been all wrapped up in this big secret about himself. And he’s let himself be dragged down and made convincing arguments that what he wants is just too far out of reach.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Needing a moment to collect himself, he turns his attention to the photos displayed on the mantle in front of him and sees old school portraits and baseball team shots, but in the middle, there’s a photo he’d texted to his parents from his birthday a couple of years ago. It’s a little out of focus, but he’s in the center, head thrown back in a laugh, with Rachel under one arm and David tucked in close to his other side. His memories of that night are a bit hazy considering the amount of vodka they’d all consumed, but the happiness captured in this photo is undeniable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The springs in their old couch creak and he turns to see his dad standing up and coming towards him and the next thing Patrick knows he’s clinging to his back and crying into his chest, years of constricted emotions breaking loose and spilling out of him unbidden. He can’t even feel ashamed by it because it just feels so good to let it all out. Never has he been more thankful to have grown up in a household where fatherly affection was never withheld than in this moment. The strength of his dad’s arms and his broad hands soothing the tense muscles of Patrick’s back are exactly what all of Patrick’s broken pieces need to begin to heal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Minutes that feel like hours pass and eventually, all cried out, he realizes he’s also all out of words. But his dad knows him so well and just hugs him again and suggests that maybe he should bundle up and go take a walk. Being alone with his thoughts, for the first time in a while, actually sounds like a relief. So that’s what he does. After finding his mom where she’d retreated into the kitchen to give her men privacy and hugging her fiercely, he throws on a hoodie and his winter coat and trudges out into the snow. With his phone back in his bedroom, it’s just him and nature, the brisk wind rustling the branches overhead as he makes his way along the path towards the riverbank. As his favorite spot to throw stones comes into view, he can hear the crunch of ice against his boots from where the water had seeped up onto the rocks and froze, capturing a moment until the afternoon sun allows its release. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He actually laughs aloud as he conjures up a melodramatic metaphor, his conversation with his parents being the sun and the rest of his life like the water being set free. There’s a song in there somewhere, he thinks to himself with a smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe he should spend some time with his guitar when he gets back home to Toronto?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s entirely too cold to spend too much time out here, the frigid air stinging his lungs every time he takes a deep breath, but he makes sure he’s feeling a little bit more centered before turning back towards the house. One conversation isn’t the magic solution that will make everything about his life figure itself out, but at least he’s taken one more big step forward. In doing so, he’s feeling a hell of a lot more like himself, the Patrick he was proud to be when he was young. The Patrick who took charge of the things he wanted and didn’t run away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he’s shaking the snow off his boots in the mud room he checks in with himself again. If he’s determined to be more honest with himself, he has to find a way to know if running away from David was the right choice, a valid one to start fresh somewhere new, or cowardice he needs to rectify. All he knows for sure is he’s miles away from working that one out and thinks that maybe he needs to find a good hiking trail back in Toronto.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s thankful for the cold having pinked his cheeks to hide his blush when he locks eyes with his Mom as he almost collides with her in the hallway inside the door. Getting used to his parents suddenly knowing something so inherently personal is going to take some time. But she just squeezes his shoulder and nods her head towards the island where she’s left him a steaming mug of potato soup.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks Mom.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sitting, he wraps his cold hands around the mug and leans his face into the aromatic steam. Maybe it’s that he’s coming down from the adrenaline of the morning, but he’s suddenly tired and famished. His mom slides in next to him with some soup of her own and he leans affectionately against her shoulder as he shovels a large spoonful of the smooth potatoes into his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’s quiet for a little while and they just eat together, the sounds of their slurping loud and funny enough for both of them to chuckle and break the silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And apparently, that’s all she’d been waiting for.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I tell you something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Before I say this, please hear me that I’m not trying to meddle. Your decisions are yours to make and we support you with whatever you decide. But, I just want to share something from my perspective and then we can move on and not talk about this anymore while you’re here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wishes her words didn’t make his stomach flutter with nerves, but they do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When your father and I came to New York for your graduation, we were so nervous, not knowing the city at all and meeting your friends and seeing Rachel for the first time since you two broke up. It was a lot for us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But David, he - Patrick, he made everything so easy. From that suite he’d booked for us at The Plaza and the gift basket with the amazing skincare to the entire day he spent taking us to all of your favorite places. He treated us like, I don’t know, like royalty, but also like family. And we could tell it wasn’t just something he did because he had the means. He did it because it was important...to you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick’s memories of those few days are cherished and it means more than he could ever express that his parents hold similar ones.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Patrick.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Turning his head to face his mom, he takes in her expression with a bit of wariness, both wanting to hear what she’s really trying to say and not sure he’s ready for it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What we saw was a man doing everything he could to impress the parents of the person he loves.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yeah, he’s not ready at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She holds up her hand and he immediately silences himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know David better than both of us combined, so I’ll let you process this on your own. You don’t need to justify anything to me. I just needed you to hear me out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All Patrick can do is nod, thankful for the steady strength of the woman beside him who knows him so well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he finishes his soup and she rinses dishes in the sink, he smiles against his spoon just thinking about David, sweating in his designer sweater as he’d led his parents through Central Park to Patrick’s favorite falafel vendor. His hands were gesticulating wildly about how there’s a much better one a few blocks off Bleeker, but conceding that the tahini at this one is far superior. Patrick had felt his mom’s arm squeeze a little tighter behind his back and they’d shared an amused smile that neither of them wiped away for the rest of the day. He’d known David had made an impression, but he’s been blind to just how big of one until now.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You knew I had to include an entire chapter dedicated to Marcy and Clint. They are such a joy to write! I hope to update again sometime this weekend and perhaps Monday before the US election on Tuesday, so stay tuned for more! </p>
<p>You can find me on my tumblr - <a href="https://language-of-love.tumblr.com/">language-of-love</a>. :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<p>
  <b>November 18, 2014, 1:15 am - Five years ago</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey David! Over here!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck, I thought they were trolling in Tribeca tonight,” David mumbles as he grabs the collar of his leather jacket up higher on his neck. He catches Patrick’s eye and gives a tiny nod towards the man in the hoodie and baseball cap currently pointing a camera their way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re about to get photographed, so put on your best smile.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s late and Patrick’s had one too many beers, so David’s words don’t really register until he’s blinded by a flashbulb and is stumbling right into David’s back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eh, sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David just chuckles and the next thing Patrick knows, he’s being pulled by the wrist through the throng of people milling outside of the club they’d just left. The paparazzo is snapping away, but Patrick’s too busy putting one foot in front of the other to give him much mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stay with me,” David says over his shoulder with a smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick was planning on doing just that, so he just takes a steadying breath, nods, and lets David lead.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>September 16, 2019 - 1:00 pm - Present Day</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I have a sip of that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rachel holds out her water bottle without even looking over and Patrick takes it as she continues to rummage through the last box with his kitchen stuff.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why do you have so many spatulas?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because you need one kind of spatula to flip burgers and a very different one for cookies or pancakes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay Gordon Ramsey,” she says as she rolls her eyes and tosses a third spatula onto his butcher block countertop. What can he say, he’s particular about his utensils.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After many long hours, the apartment is beginning to look more like a home instead of a sea of cardboard and shrink wrap. In reality, he can’t believe how fast everything’s come together, thanks mainly to Rachel. She’d toured this apartment for him with Ray while he was still back in Toronto and had given her thumbs up so he could have his moving truck arrive right away. He hadn't wanted to give himself an excuse for New York to be a temporary destination. If he’s gonna do this, he’s doing it all the way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David saunters out of the bedroom, or really, the section of the room set aside for a bed, gesturing towards the door on the other side of the bathroom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The lack of closet space in this place is going to cause us to have to break up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Realizing they’ve reached a place where they can find some humor in the situation they’ve found themselves in is a relief.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, honey, I haven’t asked you to move in, so let’s cross that bridge when our relationship has progressed to that point. I’ll happily give you a drawer though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David scoffs and levels Patrick with a pointed stare, which honestly shouldn’t look adorable, but he’s wearing a grey beanie today that’s making him look ridiculously cute.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As if all of this,” he says as he does a ridiculous little shimmy, “can fit into one drawer. I’ll need at least three, thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll happily give you four if you asked</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks to himself before quickly shoving that melancholy thought back away. He’d come to a decision last night as he’d unpacked his clothes that he wasn’t going to get all moody about this anymore, because it’s just not helping the situation. He’s tabled his feelings for this man before, and he can do it again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You two are ridiculous.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rachel’s leaning forward on her hands on the counter, smiling at David who’s just flipped her off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Honestly though, I don’t think you’re going to have much trouble selling this whole boyfriend thing. You already bicker like an old married couple.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick tries to throw her a subtle look of admonishment, but she’s making a point to not look back. She’s such a damn meddler. Wait, he’s pretty sure he’s had that thought before?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If bickering were the only criteria, I’d be married to my sister.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick chuckles at that. David and Alexis could teach classes in sibling spats.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Speaking of Alexis, she said she’d help out today.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you believed that,” David says, shaking his head, “you poor thing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Upon further reflection, Patrick has to agree that was probably a long shot. Crossing over to the edge of the couch, he starts to rip the newspaper wrapped around his prints he plans to display on the mantle. He’s had them since he first moved to Toronto, buying all four black and white photos of various locations in New York City in a moment of nostalgia while browsing in a print store. They’d only lasted on his walls for a week before he’d taken them down and packed them away in a closet. Reminders of the life he’d left behind had proven to be unwelcome. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David approaches the couch and Patrick slides back to give him room to get by. As he sits on the cushion and grabs another print to help unwrap, he looks up at Patrick.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I told Alexis.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“About what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That we’re not really dating. She was going on and on yesterday about it and kept trying to squeeze my cheeks and it just slipped out. Lying to her felt...wrong.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s actually a bit of relief hearing this. Sitting down next to David, he sinks in and lets his head fall back. And he gets it. He couldn’t lie to Rachel, or his parents, not about something they all know is so important. Maybe he should dig in a little more here with David, find out if this is something important to him, too?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Probably makes this all easier, honestly. Now we only have to fool random celebrities and...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My parents. I’d thought about telling them, but my Mom is incapable of keeping a secret. She once told Page Six about her own nudes, but luckily they couldn't find any copies of them online. We will not discuss her asking me for help with that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Somehow, this story is completely unsurprising.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And god, just the thought of trying to walk my Dad through this situation was giving me hives.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David’s melodramatics never fail to stir up the well of infinitely fond feelings in Patrick’s belly and he rolls his head on the back of the couch to look over at him. He’s sure that fondness is showing in his smile. Unexpectedly, David’s eyes are fixed on him as well. Neither of them say anything for a moment and Patrick watches as David’s chest falls in a long, quiet sigh and he leans back against the couch to mirror Patrick’s position. Patrick wants to reach out, pull him close, bury his nose against his neck and breathe him in. He wants it so bad he digs his fingers into the cushion by his thigh to stop himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then David is turning his body towards him, drawing his knees up and tucking his arms in front of his chest and he’s too close and nowhere near close enough.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is all such a mess,” he says. His nose scrunches a little as worry furrows his brow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is, but what if we think about it a little bit differently?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Patrick has calmed down over the last day, he’s been able to focus on the situation at hand. It’s manageable if they break it down to the basics.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve got this huge thing happening for you and if this Instagram nonsense hadn’t happened, what would be different really?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t understand.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d still be at your opening, by your side, cheering you on and supporting you one hundred percent. You’ve been working toward this for years and there’s nowhere I’d be but here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick has to swallow to clear the lump forming in his throat at that truth spoken so plainly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David’s arms come loose from his chest and he places one hand a bit tentatively on Patrick’s knee. He’s always been a tactile person, but his touches just mean more now because Patrick’s been without them for so long. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because you came home,” David says. His voice is soft, but his eyes, they’re very loud. Patrick’s just more than a little wary at misinterpreting what he’s seeing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Risking his own eyes are doing the same, he shifts his focus to where David’s hand is still on his knee. Having the excuse of needing to practice being comfortable with more intimate touches feels wrong, but doesn’t stop him from taking advantage. Reaching down, he aligns his hand over the top of David’s and threads his fingers through his knuckles, not looking back up into David’s face until he’s sure he’s not inclined to pull away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If all we need to do is a little of this,” he says, lifting their joined hands a little before lowering them back to his knee, “on top of what I would have already been doing, what’s the big deal?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He needs to tell his own racing heartbeat this lie over and over again if he has any chance of selling it. Holding this man’s hand shouldn’t be such a rush.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David’s gaze has fallen to their hands and Patrick can tell he’s thinking it over, but he’s not fidgeting or pulling his hand away so he can start pacing the room. That’s a good sign. He’s been known to have full body spasms when trying to work out something frustrating on more than one occasion - once at a farmer’s market out on Jones Beach after two many coffees and only portable toilet options at his disposal. Patrick still has the photo he snuck of him rubbing hand sanitizer up to his elbows saved in his camera roll. And he’d done that before even entering the toilet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David’s fingers curl a little tighter around Patrick’s and he looks up, his smile still tentative, but minus the despair from earlier. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know it’s been a while, but can I remind you of how freakish I think your ability to remain calm in chaotic situations is?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just one of the many things you love about me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “Oh, are you guys getting some practice in over there?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick jumps at the sound of Rachel’s voice from behind them, having completely forgotten she was in the kitchen. In the process, his hand comes loose from David’s and he feels David’s hand slide off his knee and whatever moment they might have been having has vanished. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, yeah, kinda.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He needs to get it together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jumping again when his intercom buzzes isn’t a good first step.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did someone order food?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” David says, “it’s probably Stevie. I told her to come help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There is absolutely no way that’s what you told her,” Rachel says with a laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, no. I told her we were having brunch and she could maybe bring some donuts. But I’m sure she’ll be good to help with a few boxes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick feels a bit uncomfortable being out of loop where Stevie’s concerned. Rachel’s met her and David for drinks a few times and David speaks of her so much Patrick wonders if he should be jealous. He swears the thing they had was both incredibly brief and now ancient history, but even knowing there was a thing makes Patrick envious. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll buzz her in,” Rachel says. She makes her way to the call box and Patrick watches to see what buttons she’s pressing. He hasn’t learned how to use that thing yet. “Is that you, Stevie?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A crackly voice comes through the box a little too loud. “Hey, yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rachel pushes a different button, the bottom one on the right, which Patrick assumes is the door release.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Turning back to David, he realizes there’s something he needs to clarify, very quickly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does she know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David’s head snaps towards the door and then back to Patrick as they both realize the same thing at the exact same time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, she thinks we’re dating. Fuck. I guess…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want to tell her the truth?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The twist of David’s bottom lip tells Patrick that he’s thinking, but they only have another minute maybe before Stevie’s at his door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. Her bullshit detector is freakishly accurate. If we fool her, we can fool anyone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick’s a bit leery of meeting Stevie under false pretenses, because of how important she is in David’s life, but he nods in agreement just as he hears a sharp rap on his door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David’s up off the couch and heading towards the door and Patrick rises slowly to his feet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You didn’t bring donuts?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Standing in his doorway, Patrick sees an attractive brunette in an oversized flannel shirt and loose jeans and a firm set to her jaw, eyeing David with an almost bored expression. She’s obviously been on the receiving end of his </span>
  <em>
    <span>David-ness</span>
  </em>
  <span> enough to not be phased by it anymore.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right, like you thought that was actually going to happen?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Okay, he likes her immediately.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David’s hands go up in the air and he’s turning his back on her, throwing a jab of his own over his shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, there’s isn’t brunch either, so we’re even.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like you thought I believed that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick’s chuckle earns him a glare from David and a curious smile from Stevie who’s pulling her messenger bag over her head and looking for somewhere to drop it. Stepping forward, he reaches for it as he takes this opportunity to introduce himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stevie right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” she replies as she hands him her bag.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m Patrick. I’ve heard a lot about you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“None of it is true.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, anyone with a fiber of common sense would know that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stevie’s mouth drops open and she turns to David, who’s standing next to the couch with his hands perched on his hips in frustration.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I like him,” she says to David before turning to Patrick to say, “I like you.” She’s smiling in a conspiratorial way and that seals it. She’s awesome and this is going to be so much fun.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this how this is gonna go, because we have way too much to do here for me to feel attacked by way of an unbalanced social dynamic,” David huffs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey!” Rachel steps out of the kitchen with a handful of Tupperware lids and glares over at David. “I’m here, too. Oh wait, I’m on their side, so nevermind.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stevie holds out her hand to the side and the two women do a low high five as Rachel saunters back to the kitchen. In just this short interaction, Patrick completely understands why David’s found a friend in Stevie.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he looks over at David, he can see his amusement peeking through his charade of annoyance. It’s something Patrick’s seen many times, just directed at himself. David catches him looking and his smile cracks through even more. And fuck, Patrick’s belly just did a somersault. Do David’s eyes always take on the color of dark chocolate when he smiles?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh fuck, you two really are in love.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David and Patrick both exclaim “What?” at the same time as they direct their attention back towards Stevie, whose eyes have narrowed as she’s looking back and forth between them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh sorry, are you not? I mean, Rachel and I were just standing here waiting for the two of you to stop smiling at each other and remember we were here. Right Rach?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick’s feeling flustered and, well, caught, and he looks to Rachel for a lifeline. From the look on her face, he knows he’s out of luck. “Total lovebirds,” she agrees with a smirk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a soft brush of something against his back and he somehow manages to not sigh out loud as David’s arms are suddenly wrapping around his waist, his chest tentatively pressing in close as his chin comes to rest on Patrick’s shoulder. Patrick can hear his breathing against his ear and he tries to relax, trying to find a natural spot for his hands to rest atop David’s wrists, as if this is something they’ve done before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine, you caught us. We’ve got a lot of time to make up for, so you’re just gonna have to deal with it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David’s voice sounds strong and sure, and Patrick marvels at David’s ability to shape situations to fit his own reality. Patrick’s not sure if he even knows he’s doing it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not without alcohol we won’t,” Stevie declares as she saunters into Patrick’s kitchen and starts opening cupboards. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick finds his voice to tell her there’s vodka in the freezer, but before she can grab it Rachel offers to open the bottle of champagne Patrick’s parents had delivered last night. All Patrick can do is nod, and lean a little further into David’s chest, and try not to read into the way David’s hand has curled around his wrist keeping him close. The world around where their bodies are connected has gone out of focus and Patrick tries to catalogue everything, from their height difference to how he can feel the metal of David’s rings through the thin cotton of his shirt. Something clicks into place and Patrick’s decision to leave Toronto in search of a happy life with David, it finds solid ground. He’ll do whatever it takes to have this for real.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David laughs at something Stevie’s said and the scruff on his jaw drags across Patrick’s ear, and a tiny groan escapes Patrick’s lips. He freezes, hoping David didn’t hear, but knowing instinctively that he did. But David doesn’t pull back. Instead, his hand slides forward a little towards Patrick’s hand, stopping short of covering it with his fingers. And it feels like a test. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Patrick doesn’t like to fail.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he moves his arm back a little and like a puzzle finding its last piece their fingers slot between knuckles. And he presses their joined hands a little tighter against his belly, even if doing so sets the full-sized birds living inside all aflutter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Earth to Patrick.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Flinching, he looks up to find Rachel holding out some champagne, poured rather intelligently in a plastic tumbler. She’s smiling at him, but he can see a question lingering in her eyes as he takes the drink from her with his free hand. He hopes the smile he sends back her way  looks genuine, because he’s happier  - and albeit a bit more confused - than he’s been in years.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a little awkward holding the drink in his left hand, but his right is occupied and he’s not about to let go. And David’s not making any move either, so he chuckles as Stevie raises her glass in the air in a half-hearted cheer and he takes a sip of his slightly warm champagne.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh, this needs to be chilled,” David complains, pulling his arm free and moving to step from behind Patrick’s back. Patrick feels the loss immediately, but he schools his face so it doesn’t fall. In fact, watching David push past Stevie and plop his cup into Patrick’s empty freezer, it’s just so damn David that Patrick finds himself shaking his head in affectionate bemusement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re such a diva,” he declares, earning a middle finger and a smile from David as he slams the freezer door. He watches as David leans his long body back against the counter and crosses his arms over his chest, his gaze still on Patrick as he shakes his head a little.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, are we going to finish with these boxes or are you two just going to keep eye fucking from across the room? ‘Cause I need brunch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re not eye fucking,” David snaps, quickly looking away from Patrick to glare at the back of Stevie’s head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Were they though? Patrick doesn’t think so, so it’s possible Stevie is just messing with David to get a rise out of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you actually helping?” Patrick asks, assuming Stevie was just here to cause trouble.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, there’s what, a box or two left? But I’m not kidding about brunch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Over the next 20 minutes, Patrick sits on the floor next to Stevie as they alphabetize his record collection and he does his best to learn as much about her as she’s willing to share. He finds out that she’d first met David at his apartment building where she was working at the package desk. Since David has all of his face creams shipped in from Paris, he was always just there, trading barbs with her until they both realized that they were more alike than different and they should try to be friends. She skips over their brief sexual relationship, thankfully, but there’s a fondness in her voice when she speaks of David that he’s pretty sure she’s not aware of. Any jealousy he’d been worried about where she’s concerned, it’s dissipated as they’ve talked. Instead, he finds himself thankful David found her. He needs more people in his life who love him unconditionally. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David’s always been notoriously bad at giving his heart to all the wrong people.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s talked about you quite a bit over the years,” she says. Having finished the albums, she’s leaning back against the edge of the couch, watching him warily as he arranges a few candles inside the fireplace. He’s not sure of what to do about that wariness since he can’t be completely honest about the current situation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh yeah? All good things I hope.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was fully expecting you to have a halo and angel wings if that gives you some idea.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Really? He wants to find out more, but he can’t seem desperate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m no angel. But it’s nice to hear that he wasn’t burning me in effigy for leaving.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She doesn’t say anything back right away and he goes back to fiddling with the candles. The stall in their conversation is probably a good thing, as he was probably on the verge of revealing something she’d see right through. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You coming back really means something to him, Patrick. I hope you’re here to stay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A shiver runs up his neck at the seriousness in her tone and he looks over his shoulder so she can see the soul-baring truth in the words he’s about to say.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where David is, it’s the only place I want to be.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I haven't thanked them since the first chapter, so let me give another shout-out to <a href="https://wild-aloof-rebel.tumblr.com/">wild-aloof-rebel</a> and <a href="https://jessx2231.tumblr.com/">jessx2231</a> for their beta help with this fic. I can never give them enough kudos! </p>
<p>And thanks again to everyone leaving comments. Reading you mention sections I worked really hard on or tidbits I'd hope someone would catch is just the greatest joy. ♡</p>
<p>You can find me on my tumblr - <a href="https://language-of-love.tumblr.com/">language-of-love</a>. :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>
  <b>April 20, 2016 -  10:30 am - Three and a half years ago</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“Oh shit.”</p><p>Patrick looks up from his book at Rachel to see she’s staring at the page of one of the cafe’s magazines with a frown that just deepens when she looks up to meet his gaze.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“David. He got caught by the paparazzi. It’s not a flattering photo...or caption.”</p><p>Does Patrick really want to hear about this? He hates that the answer is yes, even though he knows it will hurt.</p><p>“Let me see,” he says. When she passes the magazine over across the table, he wishes he could erase the look of pity he sees in her eyes.</p><p>The photographer caught David standing outside of some club, wearing the leather jacket he always puts on when he wants to look sexy. Or at least that’s the way Patrick’s always thought about it whenever David’s worn it. But he doesn’t look sexy here. He looks...sad. Leaning alone against the brick wall in a cloud of cigarette smoke from the people around him, he’s staring at the back of his boyfriend, his skinny fingers curled around another man’s wrist. </p><p>The caption below the photo has Patrick scowling down at the page.</p><p>
  <em> “David Rose stands alone as on-again off-again boyfriend, Nikolai Morozov, looks decidedly more interested in Calvin Klein’s latest it-guy, Tyson Ballou. Maybe there’s another member of the Morozov family available for Rose to date next?” </em>
</p><p>“You should call him,” Rachel says.</p><p>Patrick can’t meet her eyes, so he looks out onto the street and watches the people passing by their table. </p><p>“I’m sure he’s fine,” he lies. “You know what he always says about tabloids. You can’t believe any of it, unless it’s a direct quote. Even then, you have to take it all with a grain of salt.”</p><p>“Yeah, but he’s obviously unhappy, Patrick.”</p><p>So am I, he thinks to himself. So am I. </p><p>But as unhappy as Patrick’s current situation has found him, it doesn’t mean he loves David any less. So he picks up his phone.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <b>September 17, 2019 - 11:40 am - Present Day<br/></b>
</p><p> </p><p>David’s financials look pretty good. He’s been pouring over spreadsheets and inventory tracking since just after eight this morning and he’s only made a half page of notes of suggestions and minor tweaks. Pretty sure he’s gotten a good grasp of any pitfalls, Patrick drops his pen and leans back in his chair, stretching his spine from sitting in the same position for too long.</p><p>The little office nook in the corner of the store’s back room is cozy with multi-colored light streaming in from the one stained glass window against the chestnut wood of the desk. It’s not a style he’d have pegged as David’s initially, but upon further inspection he’d realized it was an antique.</p><p>He can hear David shuffling around in the front, having arrived a little while ago with caffeine and pastries. When he’d handed Patrick a key to the store last night as they’d all parted ways, he’d assumed it was David’s own set, but had been surprised to hear the lock turn and David come inside without needing to knock.</p><p>“I figured you should have your own,” he’d explained with a wave of his hand before stuffing the end of his cruller into his mouth.</p><p>Patrick’s still processing this information almost an hour later as he shuts David’s laptop and takes a sip of his now tepid tea. David had a set of keys made for him, for this place, his baby, the home of his hopes and dreams made real. It feels monumental, even if David’s demeanor about it reflected the opposite. </p><p>“Oh no, is it that bad?”</p><p>David’s self deprecating humor shouldn’t appeal to Patrick as much as it does, but it has him smiling down at his hands and shaking his head. Turning in the chair, he leans his elbow on the desk and tries to stifle his amusement as he looks at David instead.</p><p>“Honestly?” He can’t let an opportunity to goad David pass him by.</p><p>David’s shoulders sag and he drops dramatically in the armchair against the wall.</p><p>“Okay, let me hear it.”</p><p>“I’ve underestimated you, David. Your books look great.”</p><p>David’s mouth drops open a little and then he’s bending down and grabbing a roll of packing tape that he promptly tosses at Patrick’s head. Patrick’s many years of playing first base has him catching it easily, which just makes David huff.</p><p>“Don’t scare me like that!”</p><p>“It was too easy, sorry. Honestly though, you don’t need me, David. You’ve got this.”</p><p>Saying that sparks a sharp pain in Patrick’s chest and he wishes he could take it back.</p><p>“Don’t say that. Of course I need you. Why do you think I gave you a key?”</p><p>David’s looking down at the seat of his chair, his well manicured fingernails toying with a tiny thread poking out from the trimming. Needing to see his face to better understand what’s happening here, Patrick rises from the desk and walks over to stand in front of him.</p><p>“I think I might need you to explain that a little further.”</p><p>Patrick has to shuffle back a half step as David pushes himself to his feet. They’re standing so close now, close enough that he’s sure David can hear the rapid pounding of his heart.</p><p>“I want you to, um, think about doing this with me.”</p><p>“Doing what?” Patrick’s pretty sure he knows what David means, but the words slip out anyway. He can’t help but wish for David to be referring to<em> them </em> when he says <em> this </em>.</p><p>“It’s stupid, nevermind,” David says. He’s turning away, but Patrick’s hand takes hold of his forearm to pull him back.</p><p>“David?”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Are you asking me to run this business with you?”</p><p>The sun coming in from the window catches one of the gold appliques on David’s sweater, throwing reflections of light around the room as David turns a little towards the mirror. They both look around at the same time at the light show it’s created and end up back in each other’s gaze, smiling at the unexpected distraction.</p><p>"I’m telling you that if that’s something you’d be interested in, ever, I’d welcome it.” David’s words are sure, clear, and full of confidence. But then, he starts rambling with qualifications as his bruised self esteem comes roaring to the surface. “But I know you just got back to the city and you have your job with Ray, so there’s no pressure. It’s just an idea that I had, so I gave you a key.”</p><p>Without thinking about it, Patrick steps closer and grabs both of David’s hands and gathers them together against his chest. </p><p>“I’ll absolutely think about it, David.”</p><p>David’s eyes have gone a little glassy and he’s chewing on the inside of his lip in that adorable way that makes his mouth go all crooked and Patrick has to actively stop himself from leaning in and kissing him stupid.</p><p>“And thank you for the key.”</p><p>Hope fills Patrick’s chest as they stand there, with David nodding silently and their hands all tangled up. It’s an unsteady feeling, being this close to something you want while still being so far away. </p><p>“How much do you want to go over your notes on the books?” David’s tone is playful and Patrick finds himself welcoming the shift in mood.</p><p>“Oh, so much.” He lets go of David’s hands and gestures towards the desk. “I think we might need a tiny refresher on tax write-offs.”</p><p>“No, my Dad already walked me through that when he dropped off the desk. I’m good there.”</p><p>Oh, so it’s his Dad’s desk. What a sweet gesture by Mr. Rose.</p><p>Sliding back onto the chair as David grabs another one to sit next to him, Patrick runs his thumb along the edge, imagining Mr. Rose coming up with the plans for Rose Video at this very spot.</p><p>“Okay, but your face cream, you can’t write that off.”</p><p> </p><p>An hour later as he’s walking back to his office, he’s finally alone and able to process David’s proposal. It’s not that the idea is unappealing, far from it. But he has to worry that entangling himself in a business relationship with David might complicate the personal relationship he’s really aiming for. Helping David make this dream a success though, it’s something Patrick knows would be fulfilling, both because it would make David happy and because helping small businesses succeed is what he knows how to do best. On paper, it’s perfect.</p><p>In his heart, it’s complicated.</p><p>Ray’s nowhere to be found in their cramped office and Patrick sighs in relief. He enjoys Ray, but his energy can be a bit much sometimes and Patrick’s focus is already overextended. Checking his calendar, he confirms that his next appointment isn’t until 3:30 and he opens up a fresh spreadsheet on his computer.</p><p>It’s time to organize his thoughts, his ideas for David’s business, his goals for the future. He spends the next forty five minutes filling in columns and rows, trying to see where things diverge and intersect. The longer he looks at it though, the clearer one thing becomes.</p><p>He won’t know anything about any of this until he tells David how he feels. That’s the key that will unlock everything else that follows.</p><p>No amount of formulas and color coding can get him past this simple truth.</p><p> </p><p>….</p><p> </p><p>Later that night, he’s numbing his racing thoughts with a beer, watching the post-game recap of the Blue Jays win over the Orioles, when he hears his intercom buzz. Having not done his usual get-to-know the neighbors routine yet, he has to assume it’s either David or Rachel. As he’s walking the few steps to his door, he’s not sure of who he hopes it will be.</p><p>“Hello?”</p><p>“It’s me.”</p><p>David.</p><p>“Come on up.” </p><p>Lifting his beer to his lips, Patrick takes a long sip, and another as he leans against the wall waiting for David to arrive at his door. It’s thrilling, in a way, having David drop by unannounced. He can’t deny that it’s nice knowing David was thinking about him, choosing him or whatever. God, he feels a bit like a high schooler about to see his secret crush. Too bad the stakes are significantly higher than that.</p><p>David’s knuckles have just brushed the other side of his door when he’s pulling it open, startling David a bit at his eagerness. </p><p>“Oh, hi.” </p><p>“Hey, come on in.”</p><p>As David brushes past, Patrick notices he’s changed clothes, no longer in his fancy sweater and tight jeans from earlier. He’s now in a soft sweatshirt and baggy pants, all black still, comfortable, yet stylish, and attractive in ways that only David can pull off.</p><p>“I was, um, in the neighborhood and thought I’d see what you were up to.”</p><p>Hmm. That’s definitely not true. David lives at least 30 blocks away.</p><p>“Nothing exciting. Can I get you a beer?”</p><p>David’s face scrunches up in disgust, as expected, and Patrick laughs as he walks into the kitchen. </p><p>“I’m kidding, David. I have wine.”</p><p>As he grabs a wine glass and the open bottle of red, he watches David from the corner of his eye, hoping to catch a clue as to what actually brought him here. David wanders towards the couch and runs his hand across the mantle, stopping to look at the photo Patrick put there of his parents before turning to the couch and sitting on the edge of the cushion. His back is ramrod straight and he nearly knocks one of Patrick’s books onto the floor after fidgeting with it, making Patrick chuckle good naturedly as he approaches with David’s wine and another beer.</p><p>“You seem a little nervous. Everything okay?”</p><p>“I’m,” he starts to say, but after seeing Patrick, he reaches his hand out to take the wine. “Thanks, I’m, um, sure, maybe a little nervous.”</p><p>Patrick’s getting a little nervous himself now as he settles in next to David. </p><p>“Why?”</p><p>David deflates and his body sinks into the corner of the couch, taking a hefty drink of his wine before answering. </p><p>“I’m afraid I might have pushed you a little too far today. With the business thing.” His free hand is active, moving through the air, punctuating syllables like a conductor. “I don’t want to put pressure on you. Having you home is more than enough. And I…”</p><p>Patrick has to stop this spiral before it goes wild.</p><p>“Oh David. You didn’t push too hard. I’m actually…” What’s the word he’s looking for here? “Flattered, that’d you want to include me in all of this.” Flattered feels too small to really express it, but it’s the best he could come up with in the moment.</p><p>David’s eyes are on him now, as if he’s trying to make sure Patrick’s being truthful. So Patrick turns slightly to face him more directly and smiles against the rim of his beer as he takes a sip.</p><p>“You’re sure?”</p><p>“Positive. We’re good.”</p><p>“Okay then. Okay.”</p><p>David’s speaking as if he’s reassuring himself, which is honestly making Patrick’s stomach feel a bit sour. In all of his internal machinations over these past few years, processing his own jumble of feelings, Patrick’s coming to a realization that he apparently has not spent enough time coming to terms with how his leaving must have affected David. David, who’s notoriously uncomfortable with trust, always assuming the people around him will let him down. And unfortunately, those assumptions had been built up high from a stream of bad decisions and unworthy participants in his life.</p><p>
  <em> Fuck. </em>
</p><p>“I’m really sorry, David.”</p><p>David lowers his wine glass from his mouth with almost comical slowness, his eyes narrowing at Patrick’s unexpected declaration. </p><p>“For what?”</p><p>For not fighting for us. For treating our friendship as if it was disposable. </p><p>“For disappearing from your life with barely any notice.”</p><p>David’s “oh” is said on a breath and Patrick knows he’s caught him completely off guard. </p><p>Holding out his hand, he watches as David’s eyes flicker down and then back up at Patrick before extending his own hand in return. Patrick takes in a long breath as he tangles his fingers with David’s, not stopping to question his impulse for wanting to hold his hand. Honestly, he’s just tired of questioning everything so much. That’s how they found themselves here in the first place.</p><p>“I promise I’ll never do that again.”</p><p>Watching David’s shoulders relax and the furrow between his brows disappear tells Patrick that he’s made the right choice in apologizing. He should have realized it was needed years ago.</p><p>“Good,” David says.</p><p>They exchange soft smiles for a brief moment before David hides his behind his wine glass. “If you do, Stevie will probably take out a contract on you. So, fair warning.”</p><p>David’s eyebrow raises in a challenge as he tips his head back to take a drink.</p><p>“She’s got nothing to worry about, but good to know.”</p><p>Patrick squeezes David’s hand a little and David’s thumb does a slow pass over Patrick’s skin and alarm bells should be going off somewhere to tell him that this kind of physical touch isn’t necessarily normal for people who aren’t dating. But he can’t hear anything. And that’s maybe alarming in its own way.</p><p>But he doesn’t want to push it, so he smiles up at David as he, as gently as possible, lets go. </p><p>Looking away was the only way he could be sure his eyes don’t say more than he’s ready to verbalize, so he’s deprived of seeing David’s reaction as well. </p><p>“So, are you married to watching this sports thing? ‘Cause they just added <em> Sleepless in Seattle </em> to Netflix and we’re about three and half years overdue for a movie night.”</p><p>Joy bubbles up inside of him at David’s interest in spending more time with him. But, he has to do his part to act the contrarian. It’s just their way.</p><p>“Isn’t that the one where Meg Ryan stalks Tom Hanks?”</p><p>“We will not disparage Meg Ryan,” David says with mock indignance, “but yes, that’s the one.”</p><p>As Patrick throws his head back in a laugh, he marvels at how he ever could have left this city and removed this man from his life. God, he was such an idiot.</p><p>“Fine, but that means you’ll owe me at least one World Series game night next month.”</p><p>“You know my stance on team sports,” David starts to argue, but Patrick’s more than prepared.</p><p>“I do. Given today's political climate, we don't need to divide ourselves any more than we already have.”</p><p>“Correct.”</p><p>Turning his body again to face David fully, he cocks his head a little, preparing a seduction with the mention of food. </p><p>“What if I told you that Ray knows the owner of Brother Jimmy’s BBQ and he can get us unlimited wings for half price on game nights?”</p><p>“I have a couple of questions.”</p><p>“How many of the questions are about the barbecue?”</p><p>“Most of them. Like, how many sides come with this deal and can I be guaranteed brisket?”</p><p>
  <em> I love you, David. </em>
</p><p>One day he’ll be able to say those words out loud and David, maybe, over time, might be inclined to say them back. </p><p>For now, he’ll be content with nights like this, eating cold pizza with David’s socked feet tucked under his thigh after stretching his legs across the couch, rolling his eyes as Patrick points out every little unrealistic plot point of <em> Sleepless in Seattle </em>. </p><p>As he sneaks a look over at David as Annie finds Jonah’s backpack on the observation deck of the Empire State Building, he thinks to himself that maybe love isn’t supposed to be realistic. Maybe it’s finally stumbling into the right place at the right time with the only person that can make your story complete? </p><p>David’s his person, he knows that, has known it for years. And he’s definitely in the right place.</p><p>He just needs to find the right time.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>We've hit the halfway point! And these guys are finally doing the work to heal their pasts so they can tackle the present. It'll be worth it, I promise. :)</p><p>As I mentioned, I'm volunteering for the election tomorrow, so another update won't happen until Wednesday at the earliest. Think positive thoughts that America gets its shit together tomorrow. </p><p>You can find me on my tumblr - <a href="https://language-of-love.tumblr.com/">language-of-love</a>. :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Are we all ready for the pivotal chapter of this story? Well, here it is! I'm so excited for you all to read this. :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>
  <b>August 31, 2015 - 9:45 pm - Four years ago</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Rage is coursing through him like a wildfire, collecting all of his bad feelings and unspoken worries like kindling in its wake. He’d known something like this would happen and he’d done nothing to stop it. If he was a violent man, there’d be a homicide in this city tonight.</p><p>But he’s not. And the man falling apart in his lap doesn’t need violence. He needs comfort. And Patrick will stay here all night, burning from the inside with fury as he projects calm as he gathers David back up and does whatever he can to help put him back together.</p><p>David’s cheek presses a little harder into Patrick’s thigh and Patrick hears another muffled sob, and it’s like a dagger right into his gut. Curling his hand a little tighter around David’s shoulder, he leans down, trying to close in the space between them as much as possible as if just his proximity can shield David from the pain brought on by Sebastien fucking Raine. </p><p>His touch is a little more tentative as his fingers on his other hand thread into David’s hair, unsure if David will be receptive. David lets out a loud, shuddering sigh and his hand on Patrick’s knee clenches as he leans into the touch and Patrick lets out a long breath of his own he’d not realized he’d been holding. As he moves his short fingernails slowly across David’s scalp, he hopes it’s helping to release some tension in the same way it did when he was young, curled up and distraught in his mother’s lap. Of course, back then, it was sadness brought on by a bad little league game or a fight with his best friend. Nothing like what David’s dealing with now. Patrick’s not sure if any amount of head scratches will ever fully heal the bruises blooming afresh on David’s heart or the cracks in his already nearly shattered self esteem.</p><p>All Patrick can know for certain, as his best friend’s tears soak into his jeans, is that Sebastien Raine will never have the opportunity to hurt David ever again. </p><p>
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</p><hr/><p>
  <b>September 20, 2019 - 6:55 pm - Present Day</b>
</p><p> </p><p>His palms are sweating, but he can’t seem to pry his hands from inside his pockets as David paces back and forth and Stevie steals a crab cake bite from the hors d'oeuvres she’d just finished arranging. </p><p>“Stop eating those!” David snaps. “They cost me a fortune.”</p><p>Stevie snags another one and saunters away towards the register, her defiance offering enough levity to unfurl a tiny bit of the tension that’s been constricting Patrick’s lungs the closer they’ve gotten to David opening his doors. He can only liken his current state to how he felt back in junior high school on opening night of “Cabaret”, both excited and mortified that he was about to step out onto that stage in suspenders and tight shorts, completely on display. It’s a little bit comforting when he remembers how after the first minute or two, the nerves settled enough to allow him to enjoy it.</p><p>“Here.”</p><p>David’s next to him now, his silver rings making small clinking sounds as they rap against the stem of a champagne glass he’s holding towards Patrick.</p><p>Ah, this will help.</p><p>“Thanks,” Patrick says. </p><p>His fingers brush David’s a little as he takes the glass and small fissures of electricity tickle up the back of his neck. Still unsure if he’s just imagining it - willful thinking and all that - but ever since their movie night, he’s sensed something shift. Their looks linger on a few seconds longer, touches are more frequent, especially when they’re alone. Just last night, as they’d stretched out right here on the floor with Chinese takeout strewn between them, despite plenty of room to spread out, David’s knee had stayed in contact with Patrick’s thigh the entire time. </p><p>It’s all feeling a little bit confusing facing tonight, where they’re preparing to pretend to be boyfriends. He’s not quite sure how different that’ll ultimately feel after the last week spent together.</p><p>As if to punctuate this internal dilemma, he feels David lean in close and slide his hand into the crook of Patrick’s elbow.</p><p>“Are we ready to do this?”</p><p>
  <em> I’m ready to do this for real. </em>
</p><p>Tightening his arm against his side to bring David in closer, Patrick looks over at him and nods his head with as much bravado as he can summon.</p><p>“Open the doors.”</p><p>“You two are so dramatic,” Stevie says, brushing past them to unceremoniously unlock and swing the front door of the store open wide. As she makes her way back over to David, who’s standing there mouth agape, she leans in and gives him a quick one armed hug. </p><p>“Congrats.”</p><p>“I’d be angry at you for stepping all over that moment if you didn’t look so smashing in my clothes.”</p><p>Stevie shakes her head at the compliment, but Patrick doesn’t miss how she stands up just a little bit straighter in her custom slim tuxedo pants. She's paired it, or rather, David’s paired the perfectly tailored jacket with a crisp white shirt.</p><p>“You too,” David says, pulling his hand free from Patrick’s elbow to step back and give him a look over. “That fit on your shoulders, yes.”</p><p>“Thanks, my boyfriend designed it,” Patrick teases.</p><p>David had chosen a charcoal grey blazer for him to wear tonight, lined in the softest cerulean blue silk. Patrick’s cheeks warm a little just thinking about how close David had stood to him in front of the mirror in the back room yesterday, hands roaming and tugging to perfect the fit. </p><p>“And?”</p><p>“And what?”</p><p>David holds his arms out wide and looks down at himself and back up at Patrick.</p><p>“How do I look?”</p><p>Allowing himself a long look, Patrick sweeps his eyes over the nearly all black ensemble David’s designed for himself, with the jacket’s asymmetrical tail and the peek of white at his cuffs. </p><p>“You always look good, David.” It’s true, he does.</p><p>“I know that, but…”</p><p>Stepping forward, Patrick does something he’s been wanting to do for over an hour and uses his hand not holding champagne to run the back of his knuckles down the long zipper framing the lapel of David’s jacket. He can feel David’s breath puff out against his nose he’s so close, but Stevie’s in the column of thinking they're a couple, so putting on a bit of a show for her isn’t out of bounds. </p><p>He does a quick look over David’s shoulder towards her and back to David, hoping he’s caught the signal of what he’s up to. David’s lips turn inward between his teeth and he nods almost imperceptibly before reaching up to place a hand lightly on Patrick’s waist. The rush is quick and strong, leaving Patrick a little out of focus, but he smiles through it as he leans in and brushes a soft kiss onto David’s cheek. He has to close his eyes as he gets a whiff of his aftershave, feeling entirely too much all at once, especially when David’s fingers curl a little bit further into his side.</p><p>“You look fantastic.”</p><p>“Oh my god, that was so sweet!”</p><p>Patrick’s ripped from the moment by a near screech behind him, turning abruptly to see a younger woman dressed like Alexis rushing towards them. He has no idea who she is. David, on the other hand, recognizes her immediately and is leaning in for air kisses as he says hello to this person who apparently is named...Albany?</p><p>“Klair sent me early to make sure this was her scene,” Albany is explaining as she saunters towards the champagne on stilt-high heels.</p><p>“Oh my god,” David exclaims under his breath. Patrick turns his head so he can roll his eyes and sees a cluster of people making their way into the store. Okay, this thing is really happening now.</p><p>There’s a steady stream of well-wishers for the next half hour, mostly unfamiliar faces, but all apparently in the know about David’s love life. Patrick’s pulled into awkward hugs and intrusive chats filled with questions he’d never answer, especially not to a stranger. He’s seconds away from telling the middle-aged woman in front of him to mind her own fucking business when Alexis’s tall frame fills the doorway, providing him with a much more elegant escape.</p><p>“Excuse me,” he interjects, dodging another manicured hand groping for his wrist as he makes his way to Alexis.</p><p>“Patrick! You look like a million bucks!”</p><p>“Alexis, you have no idea how happy I am to see you.”</p><p>“Aren’t you sweet,” she says, scrunching her nose as she flicks her hair over her shoulder. </p><p>“Where’s David - whoa, where are we?”</p><p>Alexis is surprisingly agile in her strappy heeled sandals as Patrick unceremoniously starts to drag her by the elbow back out onto the street. Patrick needs air and he’s taking Alexis with him.</p><p>“Okay, I’ve worked with more complicated situations, but it would be easier for me to work the room from inside the party, Patrick.”</p><p>“Sorry, sorry, I was being eaten alive in there and needed a break.”</p><p>The cooler temperature of the early fall evening is a welcome respite from the warmth of the party inside and Patrick rolls his neck in an attempt to release the tension that has settled between his shoulders. Alexis, she’s just standing there, a vision in molten gold fabric from wrists to thigh, smiling, but with a definite “get it together” look on her face.</p><p>“You should stick with David in there. We’ve had a lifetime of practice dealing with fake people and celebrity watchers.”</p><p>“I didn’t want to get in his way.” </p><p>Patrick had wanted to give David space to schmooze and gain customers, so after the first few minutes he’d excused himself to walk around the room. And well, that had obviously been a colossal mistake.</p><p>“Oh Patrick, aren’t you the most adorable little button face. You’ll never be in David’s way. He’s so much happier with you around.”</p><p>Patrick doesn’t have time to process that information as Alexis suddenly has him by the hand and is pulling him back into the store. As soon as they’ve crossed the threshold, she turns her head to whisper, “go find David” and gives him a little push. </p><p>It’s not like he’s hard to find, both with the size of the store and the internal compass inside Patrick that seems to always be pointing in David’s direction. So, he does as he’s been told and weaves his way through the crowd, breathing a sigh of relief when David sees him and his fake smile shifts to a very real one. More confusing thoughts churn in his belly as David extends his arm back a little, and obvious invitation for Patrick so sidle in beside him. Patrick’s not sure how to process how natural this all feels or how he’s supposed to go on without it in a few days when this little act they're putting on comes to an end.</p><p>David tugs him in a little closer and Patrick goes willingly, his hand at Patrick’s back widening along the smooth fabric of his jacket. </p><p>“So, how does it feel being the newest it couple in fashion?” The ridiculous question has come from a lanky man with overly processed blonde hair and lip fillers that look more than a little uncomfortable. </p><p>“That’s not how we see ourselves, Charles. We’re just longtime friends who finally got our acts together. If you’re destined to write something about us, just put in there that it was Patrick who helped me get through my last few classes at Parsons, so he’s just as responsible for all of this as me.”</p><p>Patrick can’t let that go without a bit of a challenge.</p><p>“Oh, you’re giving me too much credit. David’s the most capable and creative person I’ve ever known. He’d have found his way to this moment with or without me.”</p><p>David turns to look at him and Patrick expects to see a challenging smile, but he’s met with a much more serious one instead.</p><p>“Not true,” David says pointedly. And then he’s leaning in, too quickly for Patrick to prepare himself for what comes next. David’s lips are soft, but firm, as he presses a far too quick kiss to Patrick’s lips. It feels like all the cells in Patrick’s body are rearranging, trying to make sense of how real that moment just felt as David pulls back and looks away. All Patrick can see is the side of his face and the muscle pulsing along his jaw as he smiles at Charles who’s yammering on about something Patrick could maybe hear if his heart wasn’t beating so loudly between his ears. </p><p>Stevie appears next to him with a glass of champagne, well two actually, one for her and one apparently for him as she holds it up for him to take. He gives his head a tiny shake to bring himself back to reality and accepts it with a genuine smile and without a second thought, drains the entire glass. The tangy bubbles burn a little as they rush down his throat, but he welcomes the distraction. With David’s hand now alternating between rubbing slow circles on his back and anchoring on his shoulder, Patrick knows he’s going to need it.</p><p>As the party goes into its second wave, more people Patrick actually knows begin to arrive. Rachel walks in arm in arm with a tall, very attractive man with brown curly hair and angular jaw. Patrick would be jealous of how much Mark looks like he’s walked straight out of a Disney fairy tale if he wasn’t so obviously smitten with Rachel. </p><p>“You must be Patrick!” he says as he offers his hand for a quick shake. </p><p>“Nice to meet you, finally,” Patrick says with a smirk directed right at Rachel. She just rolls her eyes and leans in for a quick kiss on the cheek. </p><p>“Shut it,” she whispers. It’s a good-natured jab and he laughs as he directs them both towards the drinks. He snags himself another champagne even though he’s already tip-toeing onto the other side of tipsy. </p><p>“Mark, Rachel, so glad you could make it.”</p><p>David’s voice has come out of nowhere from behind Patrick and his hand is just there, hooking over Patrick’s shoulder as he leans in and extends his other hand for Mark to shake.</p><p>“Good to see you again,” Mark says. “I can’t wait to take a look around. Rachel told me she expects an upgrade to my wardrobe before we leave.”</p><p>“Whoa, wait a minute. You two have met?”</p><p>Patrick can’t believe it. Rachel introduced Mark to David before himself? </p><p>“Oh,” David drawls next to his ear, “we met weeks ago. It was a little hard to include you from all the way in Toronto.”</p><p>“The four of us should go on a double date for dinner or something,” Mark says, earning him a quick look from Rachel.</p><p>Patrick’s about to remind them, quietly, of the current situation, but doesn’t get a chance.</p><p>“We absolutely should,” David agrees, giving Patrick’s arm a squeeze before letting go to slide in next to Mark. “Now Mark, let me show you my collection. I’d love to customize a few suits for you.”</p><p>The two of them are gone before Patrick can catch up with what’s just happened.</p><p>From the look on Rachel’s face as she watches her boyfriend get pulled away, she’s a little confused as well.</p><p>“Uh, he knows about us, right?”</p><p>“Yeah.” When her eyes come back to Patrick, she’s looking at him as if she’s trying to solve a math problem in her head.</p><p>“I can see why he might have gotten confused though. You and David, there’s...I dunno, an energy. Has something happened?”</p><p>Patrick doesn’t trust the confusing signals he’s been picking up on himself to vocalize them yet to Rachel, so he just shakes his head and takes another long sip of his champagne.</p><p>“You’re sure?” Rachel’s voice is soft and reassuring, telling him that she’s open to listening if he needs to talk things out. But he’s not ready.</p><p>“I’m sure.” He does his best to give her a confident smile as he gathers her into his side in a hug. “Now, you might want to go rescue your man before David convinces him to spend a month’s salary on custom wool pants.”</p><p>Mark manages to only order one new suit, but David tosses in a free sweater after he agrees to model it for David’s now infamous Instagram page. Rachel and Mark disappear into the back room with it to snap a few shots and don’t reemerge for almost a half hour looking more than a little disheveled. There’s maybe a little part of Patrick that wants to make fun of her for it, but that’s eclipsed with how happy he is to see her so happy. So, he leaves her alone and just smiles a knowing smile as the two of them say their goodbyes. </p><p>It’s as he’s watching them leave that he catches a glimpse of the one person he hoped to never see again. Sebastien Raine is out on the sidewalk with a woman on each arm and another man practically draped over his back. He looks like a walking disease. Patrick’s on his way to intercept him when another man he instantly recognizes in a dark suit with salt and pepper hair arrives from the other direction and blocks the doorway.</p><p>Patrick’s a few steps away when he hears Johnny Rose make a firm declaration that has the set of Patrick’s frown tick up towards a smile.</p><p>“This event is invitation only, Sebastien. Alexis, do you see his name on the list?”</p><p>Alexis, who is just inside the door does a quick look around and spies one of David’s order sheets on a clipboard. The bracelets hanging on her wrist clank loudly against the plastic as she makes a show of running her finger down the paper and back up again before looking over her father’s shoulder.</p><p>“Sorry, what was your name again? You haven’t crossed David’s mind in years, so perhaps he misspelled it?</p><p>In all his years knowing David and his family, he’s never witnessed a moment quite like this. It's awe-inspiring, really. And god how he wishes David was seeing it, too.</p><p>As he steps forward just a little to make sure he doesn’t miss a second of it, he sees Moira, in an outfit Patrick couldn’t explain if he tried - because a stylish trash bag is the first thing that comes to mind and he knows that description would not be well received. She walks forward as if she’s about to say something to Sebastien, but turns her back to him instead and holds out an arm for Johnny to take.</p><p>“Mr. Rose, let’s leave the hoi polloi alone and go celebrate with our son.”</p><p>Johnny nods his head in agreement and helps Moira through the door of the store, leaving Alexis, one hand on her shiny hip happily standing guard. </p><p>Patrick misses what, if anything, Sebastien says outside because he’s spotted by David’s parents immediately and, rather unexpectedly, finds himself being pulled into a hug by Mrs. Rose.</p><p>“Oh Patrick, you’ve been cast away for far too long, dear!”</p><p>“Yes son, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” Johnny says as he gives Patrick’s arm a welcoming squeeze as Moira pulls away.</p><p>“It’s lovely to see you both.” Patrick’s eyes are welling up a bit, both from the enthusiasm of their welcome and for what’s transpired with Sebastien. “And thank you, so much, for what you just did outside.”</p><p>Moira lifts a ring-laden hand to fluff the blonde curls of her wig and Patrick can see she’s more than a little impressed with herself.</p><p>“There’s a big fat line between charm and bullshit that Sebastien crossed ages ago. David didn’t need that mountebank darkening his doorstep this evening.”</p><p>“I couldn’t agree more, Mrs. Rose.” </p><p>“You must know how happy we were to hear of you and David, moving past friendship,” Johnny interjects. “Towards a romantic partnership, that is, I mean, is that what you’re calling it?”</p><p>Patrick’s not sure who’s more flustered, him or Mr. Rose. </p><p>“Uh, I’m…”</p><p>“Ew Dad, leave him alone.”</p><p>Bless David and his cosmic timing. Patrick steps to the side to let David pass him so he can greet his parents, which again, comes in the way of hugs. They were not a tactile family when Patrick interacted with them years ago. It really does seem as though many, many things have changed in his absence. </p><p>“Oh David, it’s so lovely seeing the Rose name on another plucky young business.”</p><p>David rears back in mock disgust at his mother, but Patrick can see that he’s doing a terrible job at holding back a smile.</p><p>“Please do not call my store plucky.”</p><p>Moira just waves him off and takes Johnny by the elbow to head towards the unisex bags in the corner.</p><p>“We’ll just have a quick look around, son,” Johnny calls over his shoulder.</p><p>“God, I haven’t had two seconds to myself for hours, come with me.”</p><p>Much like how Moira has steered her husband where she wanted to go, Patrick finds himself being directed by David’s hand on his wrist towards the opening of the back room behind the counter. A little bit of joy bubbles up in Patrick’s chest at the ease in which David has taken to manhandling him, but maybe that’s just the champagne.</p><p>David sags against the doorway where he can keep an eye on the party, but be out of the fray, so Patrick mirrors him, slotting his foot between David’s as he crosses his arms over his chest. He’s sure that he should tell him about Sebastien, but he doesn’t really want to. The situation was handled and…</p><p>“Alexis filled me in about our uninvited guest,” David says, reading his mind a little too accurately.</p><p>“Oh, good. Did she tell you what they all did? It was pretty impressive.”</p><p>“She gave me the cliff notes version, but she did mention that Albany was filming the whole thing on her phone, so I’m sure his dismissal will go viral like the contagion he is.”</p><p>There’s a glint in David’s eye that belies his almost bored delivery of that information and Patrick just has to laugh. It’s all too ridiculously perfect to be real. </p><p>“What?”</p><p>The smile David’s directing his way sends Patrick’s heart off on a gallop that he’s far past the point of getting back under control. He’s really not sure how to deal with the very real and very strong desire he has to step forward and kiss the man senseless. They are, in fact, still in view of everyone and still pretending to be in love, so it wouldn’t be out of bounds for him to do that very thing. </p><p>So, he steps forward and slowly lifts his hands to David’s cheeks, and leans in, just a little. </p><p>But he stops. </p><p>This isn’t how he wants to do this. If he’s going to kiss David the way he wants to it’s going to be fucking real.</p><p>But David’s eyes, that had initially gone wide at Patrick’s touch, have softened and Patrick watches as his gaze flickers down towards Patrick’s lips. And it’s as clear a signal he's had all night that he’s not alone in the wanting of whatever the hell this is. So, maybe, he should just…</p><p>Stevie’s suddenly there elbowing her way from the back room between them with an armful of garment bags.</p><p>“Will you two just get a room already?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry to leave you on a bit of a cliffhanger (not really, but I love you all anyway, feel free to yell at me in the comments). Hopefully this was a bit of a respite from the stress of the US election as we wait to see what happens. Don't worry, I won't make you wait too long for the next chapter!</p><p>You can find me on my tumblr - <a href="https://language-of-love.tumblr.com/">language-of-love</a> if you ever have questions or want to chat about my fics. :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I promised you wouldn't be left with that cliffhanger for too long. I hope you're ready...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>September 21, 2019, 2:15 am, Present Day</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“Well this was a success,” David says as he pats his hand on the stack of receipts on his desk and begins to wander towards Patrick.</p><p>“I would say so, yeah.” </p><p>Patrick knows David is referring to his sales, but Patrick senses - it could be wishful thinking - that he’s talking about much more than that. </p><p>It’s quiet except for the faint notes of soft jazz still playing in the empty store, making David’s breath sound loud as he steps in close and moves to help Patrick out of his borrowed jacket. </p><p>“I’m going to make you matching pants for this,” he says, voice hoarse from too much talking and maybe something else. Patrick’s sure he wouldn’t be able speak right now himself with how his emotions have all tangled themselves up around his throat.</p><p>Patrick shudders as David’s thumbs slide down the sides of his arms, the relief of the release of the warmth trapped beneath the jacket quickly overtaken as his body thrums with new heat in response to David’s touch. Patrick’s head is already swimming from one too many drinks and the proximity of David’s body is not helping at all, so he closes his eyes in an attempt to steady himself.</p><p>He’s breathing too fast and his heart aches as it skips too many beats when David doesn’t make a move to step back after he’s dropped the jacket in the chair by Patrick’s hip. Patrick starts to wonder if he’s imagining things, but the world stops altogether when he feels David’s lips softly brushing against his. </p><p>Blinking his eyes open, he looks up at David with confusion and near breathless relief. </p><p>Everyone’s gone. He doesn’t need to do this anymore. But he is.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I just, wanted to…” David whispers, voice quiet as he makes a move to pull away. </p><p>Patrick moves forward instead, quickly sliding his hand around the back of David’s neck to keep him from retreating any further, his breath coming out in a gentle woosh against David’s face before he’s slanting his mouth across David’s lips. He finds himself stumbling backwards a step or two as David’s body practically collapses against his until the wall of the back room steadies them both. All of his available focus centers on where their mouths are testing, tasting, David’s thumbs pushing into the hollows of Patrick’s cheeks as his hands take possessive hold at the back of his neck. David’s lips are soft and wet and Patrick wants to memorize every dip and curve as he makes tiny flicks of his tongue, but he’s a little bit tipsy and there’s just too many things happening all at once.</p><p>When David’s mouth opens and Patrick’s bottom lips slips inside, a groan escapes his throat and his fingers grip probably a little too hard at David’s waist as he tries to drag him even closer. </p><p>“Fuck.” David’s curse is muttered against Patrick’s mouth and Patrick worries for a second that he’s about to pull away, but he’s crowding him in more, one hand moving to curl all the way around his neck to hold on tight. Patrick’s breathing goes shallow as David’s nose brushes against his ear and he instinctively leans further into David’s hand to give him access to wherever he’s intending to go. Patrick swears David’s smiling when his lips find the goosebumps that have erupted along the side of his neck and it’s almost enough to make his knees buckle.</p><p>God, this is finally happening. All the signs this week and tonight he’d thought were yellow are definitely flashing green, green, <em> green </em>.</p><p>Needing to be more than just a passive participant, he slides one hand inside David’s jacket around his back and curls the fingers of his other around David’s belt to drag his hips forward to meet his own. David doesn’t resist and everything around Patrick goes hazy as his knuckles dig into David’s belly and his budding erection is suddenly flush with David’s thigh. He’s not even embarrassed by it. In fact, he’s hoping David can feel just how much he wants every second of what’s happening right now.</p><p>At some point he mumbles David’s name, which at first prompts David’s lips to suck even harder at his neck, but then he’s lifting his head, but only so he can lean back in and take back control of Patrick’s mouth. His tongue is hot and slick as it slides along Patrick’s lips, making Patrick gasp, quickly welcoming it in as David presses it against his own and licks at his teeth. It’s the messiest, but still the hottest kiss of Patrick’s life and his hands start moving before his alcohol-slowed brain registers the decision he’s made. There’s a definitely shake to his fingers as he begins to pry the leather from the clasp of David’s belt.</p><p>“Patrick...Patrick...wait.”</p><p>David’s forehead is pressing hard against Patrick’s and his breath is hot against his mouth as he pants, the pad of his thumb moving idly along the curve of his jaw as he asks the same question swimming somewhere near the back of Patrick’s brain.</p><p>“Is this a good idea?” His hips are rocking towards Patrick’s hand, so there’s definitely dueling things to react to here.</p><p>Patrick leans back against the wall so he can look David in the eye - desperate for him to see the naked honesty of his words.</p><p>“I have no idea,” he answers. “But I don’t want to stop.”</p><p>If David says they shouldn’t do this, he’ll agree. But it might possibly break him. He’s waited too long and they’ve come this far. Maybe they just need to figure this thing out as they go and stop asking so many questions?</p><p>“Me neither,” David says without pause.</p><p>He’s so relieved he feels a shudder roll down his entire body.</p><p>“Oh thank fuck.”</p><p>David chuckles a little, but leans his hips forward again and Patrick lifts his head from the wall so he can resume his clumsy fumbling at David’s belt. David’s mouth falls open as Patrick pulls the leather strap through the metal. The realization that he’s now the one in control of this situation both thrills and scares the absolute shit out of him.</p><p>But David’s shaken himself from his inactivity and as his hands slide down from Patrick’s neck to anchor at his shirt collar, Patrick’s fear is quickly replaced with sheer anticipation. Their mouths seek contact again as David wrestles the buttons of Patrick’s shirt open, the cold pass of his rings on Patrick’s newly exposed skin drawing gasps from Patrick straight into David’s mouth. </p><p>Patrick tries to refocus his attention on unbuckling David’s belt and finally gets it open, but David tugging his shirt up to free it from his jeans distracts him before he can get his hands working on the rest of David’s pants. He has to anchor his fingers on David’s hips the second David’s hands are pressing against his now bare chest, thumbs and fingertips mapping out his skin. It’s better than Patrick’s imagined it would be, David touching him like this and he’s recalibrating expectations, sure that however this plays out will be more...everything... than he’s prepared for it to be.</p><p>David’s mouth is hot as it moves to Patrick’s jaw as his hands continue to explore, thumbs tracing along his ribs before sliding upward to dance across his nipples. His back arches away from the wall into the touch and David responds with a quick swipe of a fingernail over the erect nub of one, drawing a loud gasp from Patrick’s lips. </p><p>Fuck, that feels so good. Everything happening right now feels so fucking good.</p><p>A few things seem to happen all at once after that. Patrick tugs on the back of David’s jacket until David takes the hint to shrug out of it, tossing it on top of Patrick’s on the chair as Patrick works his arms out of the sleeves of his own shirt and lets it fall at his feet. He’s reaching for David to start unbuttoning his, but David grabs both of his wrists and steps forward, quickly pinning the back of his wrists against the wall. Patrick’s breath is caught in his lungs at the suddenness of it, but David’s mouth, hot and insistent against his lips, has him sighing into it almost immediately as he sinks into the sensation of being overwhelmed. He doesn’t drop his arms from the wall when David releases him, too pliant to do much more than feel as David nibbles and drags his tongue down the side of his neck. </p><p>“You taste better than I..” David starts to say, but his words die off as he bends down further and his tongue makes an agonizing circle around Patrick’s nipple. Patrick’s hands move then, fingers threading into the sides of David’s hair, silently urging him to keep doing that, which he does, but only for a few more seconds before he’s lowering himself to his knees. </p><p>Patrick’s cock is throbbing against his zipper just having David’s mouth this close and he rocks his hips forward in anticipation, his impulses warring with wanting everything all at once and needing them to slow down so he can memorize every second of this encounter. David’s chuckle is felt against Patrick’s skin where he’s now pressing soft kisses above his navel, the heels of his hands pushing his hip bones gently back until his ass hits the wall. </p><p>“Patience,” David teases.</p><p>
  <em> God, I don’t want to break up. </em>
</p><p>“Neither do I.”</p><p>Patrick’s hand in David’s hair freezes as he realizes two things at once. First, he said that out loud. And second, David’s just voiced his agreement.</p><p>Angling his hips back and further away from David, he shakes his head while tugging a little on David’s hair.</p><p>“Wait, wait, come up here.”</p><p>David looks up at him from the floor for a second or two before holding up his hand, silently asking for a boost, which Patrick readily gives. As soon as he’s on his feet again, Patrick’s pulling David in by the waist so they’re pressed together from hips to toes and there’s no way David can’t look him in the eye. David doesn’t shy away from that though, surprising them both probably, instead curling his hand around the side of Patrick’s neck as he waits for one of them to speak.</p><p>“You don’t want to break up?”</p><p>David shakes his head, but Patrick’s never needed actual words more in his entire life. So he waits and David, thankfully, finds some.</p><p>“This, us, it feels right. Doesn’t it?” </p><p>“You’ve always made me feel right, David.”</p><p>The rush at saying those words to David is shocking in its intensity, but he somehow manages to keep breathing. </p><p>“Patrick.” David leans in and kisses Patrick so softly, so achingly gentle that Patrick finds himself on the verge of tears. This can’t be happening, can it?</p><p>When he pulls back, David’s smiling, but there’s tension evident in the set of his jaw. </p><p>“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he tries to tease, but David’s face just falls further and Patrick braces for a meltdown.</p><p>“I’ve wanted this for so long and don’t want to fuck it up. But look what we’ve already done to ourselves with this fake boyfriend bullshit.” David’s trying to step back, but Patrick tightens his grip so he can’t spin out completely - even if hearing David say how long he’s wanted this is making Patrick’s head spin rather dangerously.</p><p>“David, look at me. Please.”</p><p>He does, but his hands have fallen to his sides and he’s obviously not happy about it.</p><p>“I’m going to tell you something that I absolutely know you’re not ready to hear, but I need you to understand the depths I’m willing to go to assure we don’t fuck this up.”</p><p>David’s brow has furrowed, but he nods and Patrick puts a voice to the words he honestly wasn’t sure David would ever hear.</p><p>“I’m in love with you.”</p><p>This time when David tries to move away, Patrick lets him, dropping his hands from around his waist to give David the space he needs to process what’s been said. David takes just one step back and his hand comes up to cover his lips, but he hasn’t looked away. Patrick doesn’t either. </p><p>“I came back here to show you that, but you don’t need to…” Patrick starts to say, but David’s lips have curved up into a smile behind his hand and he’s stepping forward again and moving the hand from his mouth to rest on Patrick’s bare chest right over his heart. He doesn’t say the words back to him, but the way his breath hitches just before his lips covers his in another kiss says all Patrick needs to hear.</p><p>The adrenaline from his confession is thrumming in his veins, but he manages to get his hands to cooperate long enough to frame David’s face and kiss him back. He’s sure his fingers are trembling, but he doesn’t care. Kissing this man was what he was put on this earth to do. </p><p>In some sort of silent, mutual agreement, as their kiss devolves into something more primal, the pause they’d put on getting each other out of their clothes is released and everything becomes a flurry of fumbling fingers and annoyed curses grunted between kisses.</p><p>“Goddammit, Patrick, do you have to wear such tight jeans.”</p><p>“Blame the man who told me I had the best ass south of Broadway for that.”</p><p>“Careful, that zipper took me an hour to sew in!”</p><p>“Why don’t you…”</p><p>“Let me just step out of them myself.”</p><p>Finally, with David stripped down to his briefs and Patrick’s pants pushed as far out of the way as possible, Patrick’s laughing fit is finally quieted thanks to the glorious weight of David’s practically naked body pressing him against the wall and the current torturous trajectory of his hand.</p><p>“Oh god,” Patrick moans as David’s palm slides up along his aching cock inside his boxers, ringed fingers taking hold and giving him a gentle squeeze.</p><p>“Yeah?” David’s breath is hot against Patrick’s nose from where he’s leaning in, his free arm bracing himself against the wall as his fingers begin to expertly take Patrick apart one cell at a time.</p><p>“Uh huh.”</p><p>David’s back stretches beneath Patrick’s hands as he bends down to slide his tongue into his mouth, and Patrick’s sure he’s leaving bruises on David’s skin as his grip tightens in response. He wants to reciprocate, feel David’s cock swelling against his fingers, maybe even against his tongue, but his body is currently only capable of handling so much at one time. He tries to focus on kissing David back, but has to rip his mouth free so he can curse when David’s hand drags his cock free and starts pumping him slowly and deliberately.</p><p>David shifts his body as Patrick starts rocking into his hand, bringing his erection flush against Patrick’s hipbone and in an instant, everything becomes about friction and learning how their bodies were meant to move together. The wall behind Patrick becomes his anchor as he drags David’s briefs down his thigh, desperate to free his cock and angle his body towards it as soon as the silky, hot length of him slides against his skin. It’s inelegant and uncoordinated at best, but when David moves so their bodies are flush, trapping their cocks between their bellies, Patrick almost comes at how overwhelming it all feels. </p><p>David’s mumbling something incoherent against his mouth as he’s grinding his hips harder into Patrick’s, and everywhere they’re touching feels charged and warm. His ass is flexing beneath Patrick’s fingers as he drags himself up against Patrick’s belly, leaving a trail of precum along his skin. It’s messy and lacking the romanticism Patrick’s imagined this moment could be, but fuck, it’s become a chase of sensation and touch and he just needs to make David come.</p><p>Snaking his hand between them, he smiles against David’s mouth as it falls open when he takes a firm hold. He’s slick and hard and feels so good as he works him, quick, firm strokes that have David moaning, begging really, with closed eyes and gritted teeth. </p><p>Nothing in any of Patrick’s limited sexual experiences with other men could ever have prepared him for how close to coming he could get from just watching David’s face express pleasure. </p><p>Fuck, he’s so beautiful. </p><p>Wait, he doesn’t have to hide that thought inside his head anymore.</p><p>“You’re so beautiful.”</p><p>“Oh my god, Patrick, Patrick…” David’s mumbling goes silent as he comes, his thighs trembling as he practically collapses into Patrick and the wall. His chest plastered against Patrick's is heaving, but his hands are active on the small of Patrick’s back, fingers gripping possessively into his skin as he’s digging his hips in closer. It’s the most delicious torture, having so much of David’s body aligned with his like this as he chases the last tendrils of his orgasm. </p><p>“Jesus,” David pants. “Give me a second and I’ll…”</p><p>Amped up and desperate for his own release, Patrick still finds amusement in David’s absolute dishevelment and he questions if it should be so damn endearing seeing him so cracked open and out of control. </p><p>“Take your time,” he jokes, but doesn’t hold back from reaching between them to take himself in the same hand he’d just used on David.</p><p>David’s eyes darken as his gaze drops to where Patrick’s slowly jerking himself and fuck, apparently the surprises tonight are far, far from over.</p><p>“Keep doing that.” </p><p>Oh god, he’s not going to last long if David uses that tone. It’s honestly not one he’s heard before, but aims to hear again.</p><p>Speeding up the pulls on his cock, he can’t help but be transported back to the countless times he’s done in the past, imagining it was David’s hand instead of his own, but never dreaming he’d have David’s eyes on him like this. </p><p>Suddenly he feels just as cracked open as David and his hand falters as he’s overtaken with a need to be touched.</p><p>“I want you to,” he tries to say, but David’s mouth is there, swallowing his words. As he kisses him, his hand comes down and works his fingers between Patrick’s so they can grip his cock together. Fuck, is this what it’s like to have a lover who knows you as well as they know themself?</p><p>Patrick can’t concentrate, not with David ghosting his mouth across his lips and his imminent orgasm, so he releases all control and lets David lead him right over that electric edge. Coming from the touch of David’s hand is so unbelievable a feeling that he’s rendered speechless, but he clamps his free hand at the base of David’s head so he doesn’t pull away and breathes slowly into the side of his neck as he attempts to ground himself in the fact that this is his new reality. </p><p>They’ve just had sex and nothing will ever be the same again.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><hr/><p>
  <b>August 31, 2016 - 7:05 am - Three years ago</b>
</p><p> </p><p>David’s paper bag holding his danish from Rachel is crinkling next to his ear as David’s hugs Patrick a little bit tighter. As each second passes, Patrick worries he won’t actually be able to say goodbye.</p><p>“Love you.”</p><p>The words are like a blanket, weighing him down. He’d always assumed hearing David say that to him would be uplifting, but he knows they aren’t being said in the way Patrick needs. But he smiles as he pulls back from the hug just the same.</p><p>“You’ve only ever said that…”</p><p>“To my parents twice and once at Mariah Carey concert, I know. So feel honored.”</p><p>“I do, David.”</p><p>It’s true, he does. Because he loves David, too. </p><p>“Love you, too.” </p><p>“Enough to stay?”</p><p>More.</p><p>Rachel saves him from having to answer that by wedging herself in for a hug, making all three of them laugh. </p><p>When Patrick pulls away in his U-Haul, he looks in the side mirror and sees them both, huddled together and waving. David isn’t smiling though, and neither is Patrick, and he has to wonder if he’s making a huge mistake.</p><p>What if David does love him the way he needs, but he just needed Patrick to say it first?</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I was actually incredibly nervous to post this chapter, so I hope you all enjoyed it! After all the lead up, you just hope you get a moment like this right. </p><p>You can find me on my tumblr - <a href="https://language-of-love.tumblr.com/">language-of-love</a> if you ever have questions or want to chat about my fics. :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I was floored by the response to the last chapter, so thank you! Your comments were all little serotonin boosts all day. :) Writing these two finally open with their feelings was a joy and I hope you're ready for more!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>January 3, 2011 - 2:15 am - Eight years ago</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rachel’s yawns into her pillow and Patrick gives her hand a gentle squeeze.</p>
<p>“We should go to sleep.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, in a minute,” she says. </p>
<p>But her eyes are doing that long blink thing they do right before she passes out and he smiles into his own pillow as wistful tears threaten to cloud his view.</p>
<p>This will be the last night he spends here, with her, in this bed, in this apartment they started this journey together in - also where she finally called him out on his own bullshit a few weeks ago. And while he knows the multitude of reasons why he needs to leave, the reality of it is hitting him hard as they share this final, quiet moment in their - no - her bed.</p>
<p>She deserves so much more than what he can give her, so it’s time to let go. He wants the next man who falls asleep next to her in this bed to be someone who loves her the way she deserves. Who loves her completely in all the ways he can’t.</p>
<p>He knows that this decision also opens up the possibility for him to find someone who can take ownership of his whole heart one day, too. But, the hurt he’s caused feels too raw and the pieces of his life too jagged for him to know what he deserves. </p>
<p>Maybe one day. </p>
<p>Maybe he’ll know what it feels like to really fall in love.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <b>September 21, 2019 - 3:00 am - Present Day</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You good?” David asks, his voice too loud suddenly for the quiet that has fallen between them as they’d cleaned themselves up.</p>
<p>Patrick tosses the wet paper towel into the small wastebasket beside him on the floor and rolls his head over to look at David, still naked except for his briefs, sitting pressed against Patrick’s side. </p>
<p>Leaning his head closer, he lets his eyes fall shut as he nudges David’s nose with his and when he leans in too, their mouths meet in a soft kiss.</p>
<p>“I’m great,” he whispers against his lips before pulling back with a sleepy, but overwhelmingly happy little smile. Great is too small a word for it, but he’s not sure David’s up for hearing a sonnet.</p>
<p>“Me too.”</p>
<p>Patrick knows this man - even more now - and he picks up immediately on something hidden in his tone.</p>
<p>“But, we should probably talk about all of this.”</p>
<p>David nods, and then tries to hide a yawn behind the back of his hand.</p>
<p>“Yeah, but I’m exhausted and I have to be back here in seven hours to open the store and you have to do, um, whatever it is you do on Saturdays.”</p>
<p>It’s doing something to Patrick’s heart sitting here, skin touching skin, bantering with David as if nothing has changed. But everything has. He can feel it in how his body is still thrumming and the nervousness settling into his stomach. What happens in these next few moments could dictate the trajectory of the rest of their lives.</p>
<p>Letting his leg fall so he can knock David’s knee with his own, he lets David see in his eyes that he’s processing all of this, too.</p>
<p>“So, maybe we table this conversation until tonight? I’ll make you dinner.”</p>
<p>“And dessert?”</p>
<p>“Anything you want.”</p>
<p>He means every word of that. </p>
<p>David pushes to his feet and moves quickly to pick up his shirt and begin to shrug into it. Patrick stays right where he is, making zero effort to hide how much he’s enjoying the view. He’s seen David nearly this naked before, in swim trunks, but it’s different now. So, so wonderfully different.</p>
<p>“Okay, then, I think, lasagna...with breadsticks, no, mozzarella sticks…”</p>
<p>David’s a smart man and he’s using this as an opportunity to deflect back into humor, but Patrick lets him. He’s perfectly fine with David doing whatever he needs to do. He didn’t spend the last four years of his life waiting for this moment just to push too hard and send David running for the hills.</p>
<p>“And tiramisu for dessert, or lemon cake with buttercream frosting…”</p>
<p>With David already back in his pants and shirt, Patrick can’t stay sitting here half-undressed any longer. As he struggles to get back up with his pants still bunched around his ankles, all of the nervous and happy energy that’s been building up just comes out in an uncontrollable laugh and he looks to David for some help. David takes the interruption of his dessert menu in stride and comes over with hands outstretched, shaking his head and smiling - and blushing, beet red with the blushing.</p>
<p>It’s a bit of a struggle even with David’s help to get himself situated, but that’s mainly because David doesn’t step back to give him much room to pull up his pants. When Patrick’s finally standing up straight again he sees David looking at him like he’s trying to figure something out.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>David’s head drops a little when he realizes he’s been caught staring, but he quickly rights himself and steps in close, his hand coming up so he can press the pad of his thumb into the side of Patrick’s neck. His little smile has Patrick feeling slightly dizzy with an array of emotions -  happiness, desire, hope, affection - but he manages to keep his breath steady as David leans in and presses his kiss-swollen lips against Patrick’s mouth. It’s a tiny little kiss, a caress really, but Patrick’s belly goes on a tilt-a-whirl just the same. Before Patrick can even really respond, David’s pulled back a little and his gaze has fallen to where his thumb is making soft circles on Patrick’s neck. </p>
<p>“I really like that I can do that now.” </p>
<p>“Me too.”</p>
<p>
  <em> Please, do it whenever you want to. </em>
</p>
<p>“But you’re going to need to wear collared shirts for a few days,” David says as he takes a step back with a telltale smirk.</p>
<p>“David, did you give me a hickey?”</p>
<p>Patrick lifts his fingers to where David had been pressing his thumb and walks over to the mirror with one quick look back at the culprit, who’s just standing there looking very pleased with himself.</p>
<p>“No, I gave you a half hickey,” he says with a quick swish of his wrist before he turns away to pick up his jacket.</p>
<p>Looking in the mirror, Patrick does see what is in fact a half hickey - a small red mark that looks closer to a mosquito bite than anything. He can feel the urge to smile coming on, so he stifles it quickly before turning back to David.</p>
<p>“That’s disgusting.”</p>
<p>David looks up from buttoning his jacket with narrowed eyes.</p>
<p>“I don’t remember you complaining.”</p>
<p>Yeah, he can’t lie about this.</p>
<p>“I could keep arguing with you, but we both know it would be bullshit,” Patrick concedes. </p>
<p>Buttoning his jeans, he makes his way over to David who’s now holding his shirt up for him to take.</p>
<p>“Next time though, go a little lower.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After eventually parting ways outside the store, Patrick had chosen to walk home instead of taking the offered lift from David and his driver. The ten blocks had proven good for thinking, planning, but mostly, cataloging every kiss, touch, lick, whispered word - every tiny detail of the night, or more accurately, the first morning of the rest of his life.</p>
<p>Back home, he’s freshly showered and ready to crawl into bed, exhausted and invigorated and not entirely sure if he’ll be able to sleep a wink. </p>
<p>Just as he’s pulling back the covers, his phone alights with a text.</p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><div class="phone">
  <p class="messagebody">
    <span class="header">David Rose</span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
    <span class="breply">can I come over?</span>
  </p>
</div><p>Fuck, it probably isn’t healthy for his heart to beat this fast, but he types out <em> “of course” </em> without a second thought.</p>
<p>He can see the little dots that show David is typing, but he hears his intercom buzz right before his next message appears.</p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><div class="phone">
  <p class="messagebody">
    <span class="header">David Rose</span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
    <span class="breply">that's me</span>
  </p>
</div><p>Tiny alarm bells start ringing between Patrick’s ears at David showing up here like this. It can mean one of two things. Either he’s completely freaking out or he’s looking for another round of what they’d just done and honestly, Patrick’s unprepared for either scenario. That doesn’t stop him from practically sprinting to his buzzer to let him in.</p>
<p>David arrives at Patrick’s door wrapped up in a big fluffy sweater and his drop-crotch sweatpants and he looks a little strung out, so Patrick immediately assumes his mood is leaning more towards freak-out than sex.</p>
<p>“Hi.”</p>
<p>“Hey.”</p>
<p>He holds out his hand in welcome and David comes willingly, his fingers slightly chilled from the early morning temperature. Patrick pulls him into his arms as soon as the door is closed, finding the crook of his neck for a soft kiss as David sinks into his embrace. As David’s hands roam a little along his back, Patrick feels a gentle tug in his gut and his impulse is to turn his head and keep dropping kisses, but something is telling him that’s not what David’s looking for. Tightening his arms around his back, he silently lets him know that he’ll keep holding him as long as he needs.</p>
<p>It’s only a few moments later when he feels David begin to pull away, so he loosens his grip.</p>
<p>“Sorry, I...I got home and was all up in my head and…”</p>
<p>David steps completely free of Patrick’s arms and walks a bit aimlessly further into the apartment, stopping in front of the couch. Patrick watches his hands as they clench the back of it before letting go and turning so he can lean against it.</p>
<p>Patrick needs to cut through whatever this is by getting straight to the point. “What are you worried about, David?”</p>
<p>“Not worried, per se. It just felt wrong somehow, going home alone. Well, not alone, Alexis was there, but without you. I mean, we just shared some really big stuff with each other, didn’t we?”</p>
<p>If it’s possible to have someone make you feel soft everywhere, that’s what David’s words have done. Patrick’s actually a little surprised that he’s able to move as he walks over to David and places his hands on either side of his face. </p>
<p>He didn’t know it was possible to feel so much all at once. </p>
<p>“We did. And I have zero regrets about it.”</p>
<p>“Yeah?”</p>
<p>Patrick kisses him instead of answering and his breath shudders a little as David’s arms come around him to gather him close. They’ve shared many kisses in the past few hours, but this one feels different in its intention. It’s not wrapped up in the passion of a moment, but deliberate, slow and steady and grounding. When he pulls back to breathe, David follows and they just stand there, eyes closed and nose to nose, with Patrick’s heart racing in his chest. </p>
<p>“Can I stay?”</p>
<p>His eyes flicker open at that request and he sees David’s expression shift almost immediately to one of mild embarrassment.</p>
<p>“Not for that! Just to sleep.”</p>
<p>Patrick wonders how it can be possible to feel both relieved and disappointed at the same time.</p>
<p>“Of course you can. To sleep,” he says, leaning in to drop a quick kiss to David’s cheek, “or whatever.”</p>
<p>It’s such a rush being able to tease David with stuff like this, knowing that there will be a time, probably soon, where David does come over and <em> that </em> will happen. So he takes him by the hand and leads him over to the bed, smiling as he begins to ramble again.</p>
<p>“It’s not that I don’t want to, it's just, we’re tired and not prepared and we should probably talk through some things like logistics and music selection.”</p>
<p>Patrick leaves him on the side of the bed closest to the bathroom and walks to the other side, shaking his head in amusement and a bit of shock at how casually they’re talking about having sex right now.</p>
<p>“You can pick the playlist, David. Now come on, let’s get some sleep.”</p>
<p>He climbs onto the bed and slides under the covers, turning on his side to watch David pull his oversized sweater over his head and kick off his shoes. The black undershirt he has on fits him like a glove and Patrick allows himself a moment of ogling, earning a shy little eye-roll as David turns off the bedside lamp and joins him in the bed.</p>
<p>“You can’t look at me like that right now.”</p>
<p>Patrick watches with curious amusement as David stays on his side of the bed, making a show of fluffing Patrick’s second pillow before lying down on his side facing him.</p>
<p>“I can’t?”</p>
<p>“No, I’m too tired, so put those eyes away so we can get some sleep.”</p>
<p>“I can’t exactly put my eyes away, David.”</p>
<p>Still adjusting to the dark, Patrick doesn’t see David move as much as he feels it, anticipation rushing down his body as fingers brush against his ribs before finding his waist to take hold. The side of his pillow dips as David joins him on his side of the bed, his breath warm against Patrick’s nose as he whispers, “shh, I’m trying to sleep”. </p>
<p>David’s nose nudges closer and Patrick’s lips curl up a little in the dark as he maneuvers his hand around David’s neck to help him the rest of the way. </p>
<p>Sleep can wait. </p>
<p>Now that kissing’s an option, it’s apparently all Patrick’s body is capable of doing and thankfully, David’s on the same page. David’s mouth is warm and soft as they start off slow with short passes over each other’s lips. David’s fingers slide up inside the back of Patrick’s shirt, prompting Patrick to use his thumb on David’s cheek to drag his bottom lip just low enough so he can sink his tongue inside. When David moans a little into Patrick’s mouth, things start to go languid as knees get wedged between thighs and shirts get rucked up enough for heaving bellies to meet. </p>
<p>It feels like years of want and questions of what could have been are being poured into kisses from both of them. It’s intoxicating and passionate, but with an unspoken understanding that this is what this moment will be. Kissing. Just kissing and stopping to breathe and pull in hips and wipe sweat away from temples, before kissing again and again. Neither of them have made a move to take control and there’s an excitement in that - existing in this in-between where there are no intentions, this space where the only thing that matters is how fucking good it feels to be kissed by someone you trust.</p>
<p>“I really need,” David breathes out, using his thumb on Patrick’s bottom lip to stop the kiss, “to sleep.” But then he’s pushing the tip of that thumb up against Patrick’s tongue and with one swipe his mouth is back where it’s supposed to be and more time slips away. </p>
<p>It's minutes or hours later that Patrick takes the initiative to really pull back, anchoring his hand against the slightly sweaty front of David’s shirt as David's eyes stay shut and the words he’s mumbling into the pillow become intelligible. It must be nearing dawn from the light in his room giving him a lovely view of David as he succumbs to sleep, skin still flushed from their kisses and hair in adorable disarray against the pillow. If there was any portion of Patrick’s heart that was unsure of his feelings before now, there’s no way they could ever survive this.</p>
<p>He’s hopelessly, completely, irrevocably in love with the man sleeping in his bed.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Anyone who knows my work in this fandom is aware of my affinity for writing kisses, so this was a favorite chapter for me.  There's nothing better than that beginning few days of a relationship where you can finally kiss the person you've been wanting to kiss. ♡</p>
<p>You can find me on my tumblr - <a href="https://language-of-love.tumblr.com/">language-of-love</a> if you ever have questions or want to chat about my fics. :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Today is a GOOD day and that means y'all get a new chapter! *breathes a sigh of relief*</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<p>
  <b>September 21, 2019 - 10:15 am - Present Day</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He’s heard his cell phone buzz twice now from where he’d left it last night by the couch, but he’s reluctant to leave the cocoon of good feelings wrapped up in his sheets. David had grumbled his way out of bed sometime after 8 or so, cursing at the sun as he shielded his eyes for the short trek to the bathroom. He’d been adorably rumpled and so annoyed at Patrick for not getting up with him, but still, with mild disdain, had leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before leaving on a huff.</p>
<p>Patrick’s spent the last couple of hours just snoozing and luxuriating in this still hard to fathom newfound reality. One where he’s told David he loves him and he didn’t run, except to get closer and spend the night in his bed. It all seems a little too good to be true, maybe more fragile than he wants to admit, but so incredibly good and freeing. Not since he came out to all of the important people in his life has he felt this unencumbered. </p>
<p>Pulling the covers back, he forces himself to leave his bed behind and makes his way to his phone, sure that at least one of the texts he’s missed must be from Rachel.</p>
<p>He’s not wrong. She’s sent three.</p>
<p></p><div class="phone">
  <p class="messagebody"><span class="header">Rach</span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="breply">How did things go after I left?</span> <span class="breply">call me when you get up</span> <span class="breply">hungover? you awake?</span></p>
</div><p>Being a habitual early riser, he can imagine Rachel must be a little bit concerned, so he shoots her a quick text so she can relax.</p>
<p></p><div class="phone">
  <p class="messagebody">
    <span class="text">All good, just a late night. Will call in a bit. :)</span><br/>
<br/>
</p>
</div><p>As he carries his phone into the kitchen to heat water for his tea, he starts to think about what he will say to Rachel about all that’s gone down. After all this time, he wants her to know what’s happened because she’ll be so incredibly happy for them both. So why does the thought of doing just that make him feel a little bit queasy?</p>
<p>He ponders that while he eats some toast and while he takes a long, hot shower. Once he’s dressed in his most comfortable jeans and his favorite blue henley, he’s come to a decision that he just hopes he won’t regret.</p>
<p>As the phone in his hand rings, he lets his head fall against the back of the couch and stares at the ceiling, centering his breathing as he waits for Rachel to pick up the line.</p>
<p>“Hey! Oh wait, hang on. I just got flour on my phone.”</p>
<p>“Again?” Patrick chuckles. </p>
<p>“Baker probs. Okay, I’m here.”</p>
<p>“So, Mark, there’s some real Disney Prince vibes going on there. Congratulations.”</p>
<p>“Stop it.”</p>
<p>“What? Am I wrong?”</p>
<p>There’s a few moments of silence on the other line and he can just picture Rachel, face pink with an uncontrollable blush.</p>
<p>“Fine. No, you’re not wrong.”</p>
<p>“I can already picture your Ariel and Eric costumes for Halloween,” he jabs.</p>
<p>She scoffs into the phone.</p>
<p>“In all the years we were together, did we ever wear a couples costume on Halloween?”</p>
<p>“Fair point. Anyway, back to Mark. What exactly did the two of you get up to in the back room last night?”</p>
<p>His stomach clenches a little from prodding Rachel about something he has no intention of divulging to her - at least not yet - but it’s what he thinks he needs to do right now. He’s not ready to invite anyone else into this bubble with him and David, not until they’ve had more than a few hours to live in it themselves.</p>
<p>“I will not go into details with you about that.”</p>
<p>“That’s okay. David has security cameras back there and we watched the tape last night.”</p>
<p>There’s a loud clatter in the background and Rachel draws in a quick breath. </p>
<p>“Oh my god, I’m kidding, Rach! Breathe please.”</p>
<p>“I hate you. Like, to the depths of my soul.”</p>
<p>Patrick tries - not all that hard - to not laugh at her, but he honestly didn’t think she’d believe him about the cameras. Thank god there aren’t any considering what he’d gotten up to with David.</p>
<p>“You love me.”</p>
<p>“No comment. Your turn. How was the rest of the party?”</p>
<p>He doesn’t have to lie to her. He just doesn’t have to tell her everything.</p>
<p>“It went pretty late, but it was more of the same. Lots of people who are far too attractive to exist in real life all sharing a very small space and drinking a lot of champagne. No Gigi Hadid sighting though, so that’s the one bummer of the evening.”</p>
<p>“And Sebastien.”</p>
<p>Patrick had texted Rachel all about Sebastien during the party after escaping outside again for a breath of fresh air.</p>
<p>“Oddly enough, I wouldn’t put him in the bummer category. Seeing the Roses join forces against him and David’s almost nonchalance at the whole thing was a real eye-opener.”</p>
<p>“He’s grown a lot since you’ve been here last.”</p>
<p>He really has.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I’m noticing that.”</p>
<p>“And, the fake boyfriend thing, any snags?”</p>
<p>His shirt button had gotten snagged in the waist of his pants as David had tugged it free, but he’s not about to share that little tidbit.</p>
<p>“Nope, made it through that in one piece.”</p>
<p>God, that sounds too forced to his own ears, so he’s fully expecting her to call him out on his bullshit any second now.</p>
<p>“Well, you owe me many more details than that, but I have to get back to work. Raincheck?”</p>
<p>“Raincheck.”</p>
<p>His cheeks are burning as he hangs up the phone and he drops his head back again for another staring session at the ceiling.</p>
<p>He’ll tell her everything eventually, he knows that. He’s looking forward to that. It all won’t feel truly real until he’s shared this with her.</p>
<p>But he needs this time alone with David even more.</p>
<p>Deep down, he knows she’ll understand. But, he’ll probably end up with another face full of dough when she finds out he’d kept it from her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It doesn’t dawn on him until early afternoon that maybe David’s told people in his life about what happened. He could text or call him to find out, but he knows David and how easily he can misinterpret things. The last thing Patrick wants him to think is that he’s ashamed of anything and trying to convey that without being in-person just doesn’t seem plausible. </p>
<p>Living in the unknown though, it adds a tinge of anxiety to the mostly giddy and joyful atmosphere in his kitchen as he puts together the lasagne for dinner. He’s always loved making this, with the defined order of the layers of pasta and sauce and cheese. It’s comforting for his methodical brain when everything else feels so jumbled, but in the best possible way.</p>
<p>He doesn’t have mozzarella sticks or dessert - and can’t go by Rachel’s for that without spilling everything to her - so he places an order from an Italian restaurant to have the rest of their meal delivered. The Yelp reviews look pretty good and they have a limoncello cake that he’s sure will satisfy David’s menu demands. And yeah, the thought does cross his mind about how good David will taste after eating a slice.</p>
<p>David texts a little after five that he’ll be done at the store by seven and he’s famished. Patrick sends back a cake emoji and a heart because he knows how much David hates emojis and he can imagine the reluctant smile he’s trying to hide as he sees them.</p>
<p>He doesn’t respond and Patrick calls that a win.</p>
<p>When his buzzer finally sounds just after 7:30, Patrick’s anticipation has rendered him flushed and antsy and David can’t make it up his elevator quickly enough.</p>
<p>Meeting him in the hallway was really the only choice and David’s smile when he sees him as he steps off the elevator tells him it was the absolute right one.</p>
<p>Neither of them even make an attempt at greeting with words when kissing works just as well - if not better - and they stumble together into Patrick’s apartment smiling against each other’s mouths. Somewhere in the back of Patrick’s brain he registers that David’s dropped a large overnight bag at their feet, but he can’t really think about that and press him up against the door at the same time, so he files that information away for later. </p>
<p>There’s the faint hint of mint on his tongue like he’d freshened his breath on the elevator and Patrick takes time sucking on it, overwhelmed with big feelings knowing David had been thinking about kissing him, too. He hopes David can feel that his hair is still a little damp from a fresh shower and can smell the cologne he’d dotted at the back of his ear. There’s probably hundreds of little things he’s done throughout the day all with David in mind. </p>
<p>Dinner could have ended up being very delayed if not for the interruption of their mozzarella sticks and cake delivery forcing them away from the door. </p>
<p>“Normally I’d suggest we go back to what we were doing,” David says as he unpacks the food from the bag, “but mozzarella sticks have to be eaten hot.”</p>
<p>Patrick knows better than to stand in the way of David Rose and fried cheese. </p>
<p>“This looks good, but I’m surprised you didn’t get dessert from Rachel?”</p>
<p>Taking the cake from David, he’s thankful for the excuse of needing to place it in the refrigerator so he can turn away and center himself a little for this topic that’s arrived earlier than expected. </p>
<p>“Uh, yeah, about that.”</p>
<p>Any unease he’d been harboring about this conversation evaporates when he turns to see David, sitting with a napkin tucked into the collar of his sweater blowing air onto a too hot mozzarella stick he’s chosen to eat right out of the container. It’s just too ridiculous and adorable and Patrick’s even more convinced that taking time for themselves is exactly what they need. After joining him at the table, Patrick slots his foot between David’s and resolves to say what’s in his heart. It’s taken him too many years and even more miles to figure out the value in not bottling shit up.</p>
<p>“I haven’t told Rachel about what’s happened between us yet.”</p>
<p>David’s eyebrow goes up a little, but his mouth is too full of hot cheese for him to respond, so Patrick just forges on.</p>
<p>“And I was wondering what you’d think about keeping this between us, just for a little bit? Maybe it’s selfish of me, but I don’t want to share you with anyone else just yet.”</p>
<p>Waiting for David to finish chewing feels like a millennia, just hoping he’s said the right thing. He knows David’s insecurities and the last thing he wants here is to have poked the wrong one.</p>
<p>When he wipes his hands off on his napkin and stretches his fingers across the table in invitation, Patrick sinks forward in relief and takes David’s offered hand.</p>
<p>“If you were anyone else, I’d worry about you wanting to keep me a secret. But you told me you’re in love with me. And as long as that’s still true…”</p>
<p>“It is.”</p>
<p>“Then I’m okay with it.”</p>
<p>Patrick’s heart isn’t quite used to the casual nature of his love for David being spoken aloud just yet - it’s a lot - and Patrick feels close to tears as he lifts David’s hand to rest his knuckles gently against his lips. He can admit to himself that it would be a balm to hear David say the words back, but this moment of trust he’s just given him speaks of something just as important. </p>
<p>“I do have a minor little question though?” David asks.</p>
<p>“Yeah?”</p>
<p>“So, Rachel, Alexis and your parents think we’re fake boyfriends, while Stevie, my parents and my Instagram followers all think we’re dating. What do we do about that mess? Do we keep pretending, just with the opposite group?”</p>
<p>Shaking his head, Patrick laughs in frustration at how ridiculous this all sounds spoken aloud.</p>
<p>“God, this is too complicated. Maybe we should forget I said anything?”</p>
<p>When did his life take on the plot of a ridiculous romantic comedy? He just wants to be in love and be happy. </p>
<p>David’s pulling his hand free and before Patrick knows it, he’s standing in front of him motioning for him to push his chair back from the table. So he does, and David plops himself right down onto his lap. Just the weight of him is enough to buoy Patrick’s spirits and when he smiles up at him, he sees a big, goofy grin and a mischievous lift of one of David’s eyebrows.</p>
<p>“I think this will be fun.”</p>
<p>“Oh, do you?”</p>
<p>“Uh, yes. Sneaking around can be exciting. I could tell you stories of hidden rendezvous with a certain British royal, but I signed an NDA and don’t want to get sued.”</p>
<p>Just when he thinks he’s heard the craziest of David’s stories, he learns something new.</p>
<p>“So, we keep up the boyfriend thing with Stevie and your parents…”</p>
<p>“And pretend not to be with Rachel and Alexis.”</p>
<p>
  <em> Oh. </em>
</p>
<p>“Does that mean you consider us boyfriends?”</p>
<p>David’s eyes dart upwards and his fingers on Patrick’s neck flutter a little.</p>
<p>“Um, I don’t remember saying that?” he stammers. But when he looks back down, the smile he’s peering down at Patrick with belies any real issue with that statement being true.</p>
<p>“Can I give my boyfriend a kiss now?”</p>
<p>Patrick’s already lifting his head - not expecting an answer - and David meets him halfway. </p>
<p>The next hour is spent shamelessly flirting through dinner, a thoroughly enjoyable exercise Patrick would like a reservation for every night for the rest of his life. As they push away from the table, David professes he’s too full for cake, but Patrick knows better and takes it out of the fridge so the frosting can come to room temperature for later. </p>
<p>He leaves David on his loveseat so he can tackle the dishes, but only gets so far as squirting soap onto the plates when he feels David slide up against his back and press his nose against the side of his neck.</p>
<p>“You smell so good.” </p>
<p>David’s voice is gruff and rumbly and Patrick abandons his cleaning so he can grip the sink, a necessary thing when David’s lips begin a tortuous journey over towards his ear and his hips drive forward to slot his groin up against Patrick’s ass. </p>
<p>He forgets about the dishes altogether as he follows David’s lead towards his bed, doesn’t resist as he’s gently shoved to the mattress, and lifts his hips with encouragement as David enthusiastically works to free him from his jeans. </p>
<p>David’s mouth is on him before he’s even gotten his shirt over his head and he practically inhales the polyester as he draws in a surprised gasp. He doesn’t let up either, and Patrick has to scramble for air, and an anchor point - both the headboard and David’s hair - as David does things with his tongue that make his toes curl almost painfully into the bedspread. The self satisfied look on David’s face after Patrick comes in near record time is both infuriating and gut-swirlingly sexy and - after catching his breath - he motions for David to come closer so he can make an honest attempt at returning the favor. </p>
<p>Watching David strip off his clothes at the foot of his bed rivals some of Patrick’s dirtiest fantasies and he’s once again wondering how this can actually be his real life. As he pushes himself up to sit back against the headboard and David, now gloriously naked and hard, crawls up the mattress towards him, he actively has to remind himself to breathe. The smile David bestows on him as he gets closer and uses Patrick’s shoulders to steady himself up on his knees is so seductive that Patrick’s hands are shaking with anticipation as he grabs hold of his ass to guide him towards Patrick’s waiting mouth. The groan he lets out at his first taste of David against his tongue is met by one of David’s hands sliding up to fist into his short hair and in an instant, no fantasy he’s ever had will ever live up to his reality ever again.</p>
<p>He doesn’t have as much experience doing this to another man, but from the speed David’s hips almost immediately begin pistoning his cock into Patrick’s mouth and the curses he’s muttering against the headboard above Patrick’s head, he thinks he must be doing an okay job of it. Leaning forward, he tightens his grip on David’s ass, letting his middle finger slip between his cheeks to make a teasing pass over his hole. </p>
<p>“Oh jesus fuck, I’ll come if you do that again.”</p>
<p>So, of course, that’s exactly what Patrick does.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>...</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh my god,” David moans.</p>
<p>Patrick shifts his attention from where he’d been running his fingers through the soft hair on David’s thigh up to his mouth and watches as he licks lemon buttercream off the end of his fork. He’s beautiful, from the top of that once perfect, but now magnificently tousled head of hair, all the way down his naked body, spread out from where’s he’s propped up on the other end of Patrick’s mattress to his toes tucked in under his pillow. </p>
<p>“Can I have a bite?” </p>
<p>David shakes his head and makes a show of sliding another bite of cake into his mouth, making sure the fork drags his bottom lip down when he pulls it back out.</p>
<p>When Patrick wakes well past midnight, there’s a very warm and still very naked David tucked in tight against his back, his hand spread wide on Patrick’s belly, fingers teasing the hair there that’s still streaked with lemon buttercream. </p>
<p>As he drifts back to sleep, he has a fleeting thought that if they ever get married, they should think about having lemon cake at their wedding. </p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p>
  <b>October 30, 2014 - 9:40 pm - Five years ago</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I prefer your baseball to this.”</p>
<p>Patrick’s relieved to hear David say exactly what he’d been thinking to himself. This reunion episode of Project Runway is pretty unbearable.</p>
<p>“I can. Why would we want to see the designers fighting and being catty after that great finale last week?”</p>
<p>“Right? I could just call up Alexis over in London, or wait, is she in Bali - wherever she is - if we wanted an evening of bickering.”</p>
<p>David pushes to his feet from Patrick’s couch, grumbling again at how badly he needs a new one and he should just let David pick one out. He’s not wrong. It’s an old hand me down from his parents and the cushions have lost any real support. </p>
<p>The water in his tiny kitchen sink goes on and he grabs his plate off the coffee table to follow David so he can take his position with the dish towel to dry. They’ve fallen into a pretty predictable - even somewhat domestic - routine over the past few weeks. It had really only taken a day or two for their friendship to start to blossom, transitioning quickly into David stopping by multiple nights a week with takeout and wine, the two of them working through his assignments until David realized he had a better handle on things that he’d previously assumed.</p>
<p>Now, when David arrives at his doorstep, his books are usually left at his flat and they spend their nights chatting about other things, their childhoods, their plans for the future, who should win Project Runway, or when Patrick’s feeling patient, the rules of Major League Baseball. They’ve become real friends and Patrick finds himself counting down the hours in his day whenever he knows he’ll be seeing David later. </p>
<p>And now, with his hip propped against his counter as David meticulously washes the remnants of fried mozzarella grease off Patrick’s plate in the suds, something is causing Patrick’s gut to dip and drop. He can’t pinpoint why he’s feeling this way, but he also can’t seem to take his eyes off of David’s fingers sliding across the soapy plate. </p>
<p>When Rachel comes by later with an assortment of cookies and pastries, she picks up on how distracted he is and quietly asks if he’s okay. It’s not that anything’s wrong, so he smiles and takes another cookie, but as all three of them pile back onto his couch to watch tv, he checks himself getting a little annoyed at Rachel for sitting in the middle. Why should that bother him? And why is she smiling at him right now?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Now you know why there are a few chapters left. ;) Fake dating becomes SECRET DATING. You can blame <a href="https://wild-aloof-rebel.tumblr.com/">wild-aloof-rebel</a> for enabling me when I came up with this idea. </p>
<p>You can find me on my tumblr - <a href="https://language-of-love.tumblr.com/">language-of-love</a> if you ever have questions or want to chat about my fics. :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<p>
  <b>September 23, 2019 - 12:10 pm - Present Day</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>How is it that he spent three years in a different country from this man and somehow managed to function, but 24 hours away has obliterated his ability to concentrate on anything at all? After saying goodbye on Sunday morning, David had declared a time-out for the sake of his sleep cycle and neglected facial routine and Patrick had relented, but not without a bit of complaint - or dirty tricks in the way of stripping down and heading into the shower while David stood by the front door with his overnight bag in hand.</p>
<p>That got him to hang around for another hour.</p>
<p>But it’s Monday and it’s been too long and Patrick jumped on the subway to make a surprise pop-in at the store during his lunch break like a junkie in need of a fix.</p>
<p>The bell over the door chimes and David smiles warmly at his arrival, nodding in apology at the man beside him he’s obviously in the middle of assisting. Patrick gives him a little wave and makes his way over the register where Stevie is filling out an order slip for a customer she’s speaking with on the phone. They’re busy and it makes Patrick’s heart swell with pride. </p>
<p>Stevie’s not overly friendly on the phone, but efficient, and when she hangs up, her scribbles have filled two entire order slips.</p>
<p>“Big sale?”</p>
<p>“Huge actually. We’ve been getting calls from stylists all morning wanting to order everything from a single jacket to an entire wardrobe. David’s going to need to hire some more people if things don’t slow down.”</p>
<p>Patrick peeks over his shoulder at David, remembering his offer and wondering again if it’s a leap he should take. </p>
<p>“I guess David was right to be nervous about the opening party. Who knew it could garner so much buzz?”</p>
<p>“Well, it certainly helps that Alexis and the fashion blogger at Page Six spent a week together at the Taiwanese Consulate or something. She got David, and you, a glowing write up. David actually only had a few complaints, but they were mainly about Alexis getting quoted more than he did.”</p>
<p>Patrick’s been so caught up in his little bubble with David that he completely forgot about the press at the party. His shoulders stiffen a little at the reminder and he almost doesn’t want to know.</p>
<p>Stevie shakes her head when she sees the stress on his face.</p>
<p>“All it said was how cute you two are. It wasn’t a wedding announcement or anything.”</p>
<p>“Oh, that’s nice, I mean,” he says. “I’m just not used to anyone caring about my love life, that’s all.”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry, you two will be old news as soon as some celebrity does something stupid, so you’ve got...I dunno, maybe two more minutes?”</p>
<p>Stevie’s droll demeanor might be off-putting to some people, but Patrick finds real comfort in it. Her ability to not really care makes him reflect on if he’s caring maybe a little too much. He has to wonder if that’s why David gets along with her so well, too. David’s energy needs a balance, and for a while Patrick filled that role.</p>
<p>“Two more minutes for what?”</p>
<p>Patrick turns at the sound of David’s voice approaching and is greeted with a soft kiss to his cheek and a barely audible “hi” as David drops another order slip to the growing pile in front of Stevie. It shouldn’t make Patrick’s heart flutter so much, but the casual intimacy of the moment, almost as if David did it without thinking, it’s a lot to wrestle with. He feels cemented to this spot just watching himself live in a version of his life he could actually have if he makes the right choices.</p>
<p>“Until someone does something more interesting than you and Patrick being gross and in love.”</p>
<p>David’s hand falls to his hip and his head does a little shake as he looks from Stevie to Patrick and back to Stevie.</p>
<p>“What? Please explain.”</p>
<p>He’s adorably flustered and Patrick seizes on the opportunity to fluster him even more.</p>
<p>“If we only have two more minutes, we should probably make the most of it.” Walking past David towards the back room, he takes hold of the skirt-like thing at the front of his pants and drags him along, protests and all.</p>
<p>“You don’t pay me enough to witness this, so I’m going on lunch,” Stevie mumbles as she grabs her bag from the floor and heads towards the door. </p>
<p>“I’ll pay you 50 cents to put the closed sign on the door and never come back!” David shouts, but he’s smiling and urging Patrick forward with his hands at his waist as Patrick pushes him up against the wall just inside the back room.</p>
<p>“Are you going to tell me what you two were talking about?”</p>
<p>“Nope.”</p>
<p>Kissing David is like taking a big breath of air after swimming underwater for too long and he indulges himself in a few big gulps. He should probably take it easy, especially since the beard burn on his chin from their activities this weekend is just starting to fade, but he loves the contrast of the softness of David’s lips with the gentle scratch of his scruff every time David leans further into it or changes the position of their kiss. Kissing before David felt almost perfunctory, or performative, but this, it’s a heightened sensory experience he can’t seem to get enough of.</p>
<p>“How long do you think we have?”</p>
<p>He finds David’s neck with his lips as he waits for an answer, fingers searching to find David’s skin under his many layers.</p>
<p>“Stevie will be gone for hours because she has no sense of professionalism. And yes, I heard what I just said and admit the hypocrisy considering our current state, but I’m the boss and I get to set the rules.”</p>
<p>This is too amusing to not witness in full, so Patrick leans his hips forward and pulls his head back to send David a skeptical look.</p>
<p>“So, you’d be okay with Stevie making out back here?”</p>
<p>“No. This rule only applies to me. But as a compromise, I’ve allowed her to leave the premises.”</p>
<p>“I don’t think you allowed her, she seemed to just…”</p>
<p>“Is this really how you want to spend the precious minutes we have left before the phone rings again?”</p>
<p>“Point taken. Now please help me get whatever this thing is out of the way.”</p>
<p>Of course, as soon as he’s worked the skirt free, there’s a loud rapping on the glass front of the shop’s door. </p>
<p>David huffs as he reconnects the front of his pants, but that’s nothing compared to his reaction when he sees who it is.</p>
<p>“Fucking shit. Patrick, it’s Alexis! Get yourself put together!”</p>
<p>Patrick scrambles to rebutton the bottom of his shirt and tuck it back into his pants. Alexis, on the surface, might come off as flighty and one-dimensional to those not taking the time to really look, but she’s actually quite cunning and eerily good at reading people. Fooling her was always going to be their biggest challenge.</p>
<p>As he looks around the back room for something to explain what he was doing back here, he just hopes David isn’t too hostile.</p>
<p>“What are you doing here?”</p>
<p>There went that.</p>
<p>“Nice to see you, too, David. Why was the door locked?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know. Ask Stevie. She probably locked it when she left for lunch. Why do you care?”</p>
<p>“Well, as your publicist, I don’t want to be wasting my time promoting a store that isn’t accessible to someone without a key or a brick.”</p>
<p>“First, leaking a few stories to your friends does not make you my publicist. And second, why are you here?”</p>
<p>Quickly grabbing David’s fabric inventory binder, Patrick steps out into the store to hopefully put an end to this bickering.</p>
<p>“Hey Alexis.”</p>
<p>“Patrick, what were you doing hiding back there like a little church mouse?”</p>
<p>“Oh, you know, just not wanting to put myself in the line of fire.”</p>
<p>Alexis grabs hold of her side braid and runs her fingers through the tail almost absent-mindedly as she narrows her eyes a little and looks down at the binder in Patrick’s hand.</p>
<p>“David, isn’t that so sweet, Patrick helping with inventory?”</p>
<p>“Oh, yeah, I swung by during my lunch break and thought I’d lend a hand.”</p>
<p>“I should probably take that though,” she says as she holds out her hand. “No offense, but you don’t seem to have an eye for quality fabrics.”</p>
<p>If she was wrong, he’d probably be offended, but everything on his person is off the rack from a discount store back in Toronto. But David intercepts the exchange of the binder, taking it from Patrick to drop it with dramatic force down onto the counter.</p>
<p>“Alexis, I have now asked you thrice. What. Are. You. Doing. Here?”</p>
<p>“Ew, will you relax please? I’m just here because Charles and Ashleigh are both itching for follow-up stories and if you and Patrick need to stage your break-up or whatever, I can make that happen.”</p>
<p>Patrick can feel his eyes widening, but he can’t seem to stop his body’s reaction to even the suggestion of them breaking up. He looks to David, who quite honestly, isn’t faring much better. His lips have disappeared into his mouth between his teeth and he’s tapping his fingers on top of the binder in a way that he probably hopes is coming off as thinking, but Patrick clearly reads as anxious.</p>
<p>“Um, we haven’t actually talked about how we want to handle that yet…”</p>
<p>“Oh, if you need pointers, I’ve had my fair share of fake relationships. I had a torrid two month affair with Orlando Bloom that was completely photoshopped back in 2012.”</p>
<p>While Alexis was talking, Patrick took the opportunity to step a little nearer to David, close enough to be able to place his hand on the small of his back without being seen. David seems to deflate a little bit at his touch and just that simple act goes a long way to communicate just how uncomfortable this topic is for them both. </p>
<p>It’s a grounding feeling knowing neither of them want to break up.</p>
<p>“I guess I could do an interview,” David offers quietly. “With actual quotes it’s easier for them to get the story somewhat right.”</p>
<p>The look he sends over at Patrick is really not hiding how he’s feeling about the direction of this conversation, so Patrick knows he needs to step in and put an end to it. They won’t be breaking up, so there’s no need to get stressed out about an article that will never be printed.</p>
<p>“Thanks Alexis,” Patrick says with, what he hopes, is his usual casual confidence. “We’ll get back to you if we need help coming up with a plan. Unfortunately, I have to get back to the office.”</p>
<p>Spreading his fingers wide on David’s back, he lets his hand slide down just a little, but not as far as he wants with Alexis’ eagle eyes now looking at him perhaps a little too closely. She wiggles her fingers like she’s playing an invisible piano when he says goodbye at the front door and he can’t help but feel like an animal in a zoo with how she’s tracking his every movement.</p>
<p>It’s only when he’s standing on the subway platform waiting for his train that he realizes the back of his shirt is completely untucked.</p>
<p>Well fuck.</p>
<p>…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The rest of the week passes in a pleasurable blur. His lunch breaks are all spent at the store and his evenings in David’s arms, sometimes - often - naked, and other times, in comfortable pajamas watching mindless television or talking about everything and nothing. He doesn’t even have to feel bad about lying to Rachel, as she’s been slammed at work finalizing the bakery’s fall catering menu and has only been in touch via a few texts and one quick call. </p>
<p>When he asks David about where Alexis thinks he’s been sleeping every night, he says they don’t need to worry about that. Apparently she’s been sneaking out herself, so David assumes she’s caught up in another one of her flings. </p>
<p>Patrick feels as though he should question this further, but he’s enjoying David’s company too much to ruffle any unnecessary feathers. </p>
<p>Besides, the text he receives from David on Saturday during lunch clears his brain completely of anything else.</p>
<p></p><div class="phone">
  <p class="messagebody"><span class="header">David Rose</span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="breply">Do you use Spotify or Apple Music?</span> <span class="text">Both, why?</span><br/>
<span class="breply">I finished my playlist</span></p>
</div><p>
  <em> Oh. </em>
</p>
<p></p><div class="phone">
  <p class="messagebody"><span class="text">Yeah? Thoughts on when I might get to hear it?</span><br/>
<span class="breply">Was thinking maybe tonight?</span> <span class="breply">If you want to.</span></p>
</div><p>Everything they’ve done this past week has gotten them closer and closer to this moment, so Patrick's more than ready - while admittedly a bit nervous. This is a big step.</p>
<p></p><div class="phone">
  <p class="messagebody">
    <span class="text">What time are you coming over?</span>
  </p>
</div><p> </p>
<p>...</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The one time he’d done this before was clumsy and only fleetingly enjoyable, leaving him wholly unprepared for what it would feel like to be made love to by David Rose, accompanied by a playlist of Mariah Carey’s lesser known ballads.</p>
<p>Allowing himself to lean into David’s experience, he’d trusted and allowed himself to give up all control. He’d sighed and stretched as kisses and fingers danced across every inch of his skin, laughed as lube slicked fingers lost their grip and carefully arranged positions were lost, and cried out in desperate pleasure when found again, and again, and again.</p>
<p>Now, with his thigh muscles aching and sweat pooling beneath his back and in the strands of hair falling over David’s forehead, he’s overcome - with need, with sensation, with exhaustion and more than anything, with love. Love for the slow, deliberate way David is taking care of him, love for the man who can’t stop kissing him long enough to let either of them come, for David, the keeper of his heart, whispering from him to <em> let go, let go, let go. </em> </p>
<p>David’s mouth is on his again, dragging his tongue along his in time with how his cock is pushing deep against his prostate and Patrick’s fingernails dig hard into the small of his back, silently begging for him to do it again. He has to tear his mouth away to groan when he does and cries out again when David suddenly leans back onto his knees. There’s a relief in letting his feet drop back onto the mattress on either side of David’s hips, but it’s short lived as his entire body goes taught when David takes his aching cock in hand and starts pumping him with David still pulsing deep in his ass. It feels better than anything has ever felt in all his life, but he needs David to keep moving, needs him to come, too.</p>
<p>Reaching down, he covers David’s hand with his own.</p>
<p>“I’ve got this, just fuck me, please…” </p>
<p>David’s hand under his tightens almost painfully and Patrick gasps, but he lets go and his hands are back on Patrick’s thighs, thumbs digging into skin hard enough to leave bruises.</p>
<p>“Say that again.”</p>
<p>“Fuck me.”</p>
<p>“Patrick, I…” David’s words die off as he rocks his hips forward, then pulls back, just to grind back in harder, deeper, the wood of Patrick’s bed frame creaking at the force of it. His ass is clenching and his cock is twitching beneath his fingers as his orgasm nears and almost more than he needs to come, he needs David closer. Letting go of himself, he reaches almost blindly up for David’s neck, but he’s too far away. Luckily, David’s focus on Patrick hasn’t wavered and he sees what Patrick’s asking for and pushes at Patrick’s knees to give himself room so he can lean back down, scrambling his hands up under Patrick’s shoulders as he buries his head into the side of his neck. The angles are all wrong now and he’s lost his rhythm, but David’s belly rocking like ocean waves across Patrick’s cock and his mouth, hot and wet on his throat, have Patrick crying out and coming, his muscles clenching around where David is slick and swollen.</p>
<p>David’s hips falter once, twice, and he’s coming, too, the warmth felt through the condom where everything is sensitive and lovingly stretched. As David carefully lifts his hips and pulls out, Patrick shudders as deep wells of emotion overflow in big fat tears streaking down his temples into his hair, down his neck and onto David’s lips. </p>
<p>When David lifts his head he looks worried, so Patrick quickly places his trembling hands on his cheeks to pull him down into a kiss. It’s more the sharing of breaths, but it’s perfect and he whispers “I love you” into the crook of David’s mouth before kissing him again. </p>
<p>He’s loved this man for so long and for a time, he’d convinced himself that they just weren’t meant to be. So, finding himself here - no, the two of them finding each other here - in this moment, laid bare and stripped of all secrets, it almost feels as though his life has rewound and he’s being allowed to rewrite the ending to his story. But that’s not really it either, not with how much they’ve both changed and grown in their years apart.</p>
<p>“What’s going on in that head of yours?”</p>
<p>The color of David’s eyes have shifted to a deep espresso, warm and a little sleepy as he leans up onto his arm and looks down at him. All flushed and with a light sheen of sweat across his immaculate skin, Patrick wishes he could take a photo so he can remember how beautiful he looks.</p>
<p>“Sorry.” Patrick’s voice cracks as soon as he tries to speak. “I’m a little overwhelmed.”</p>
<p>His throat is too clogged with emotion to continue, but David doesn’t really let him anyway. With emotion swirling in his eyes now, too, he drops a heavy kiss at the corner of Patrick’s mouth before burying his head back into the crook of his neck.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” David breathes out against his skin.</p>
<p>There’s something about that sentiment that pushes through his emotional spiral to curve his lips into a small smile.</p>
<p>“For what?”</p>
<p>David doesn’t answer right away, so Patrick waits, curious, but content to run his fingers through the back of David’s hair. His hand falls to his neck when David lifts his head and Patrick’s heart clenches when he sees David’s now the one trembling with unshed tears. When he moves his hand so he can cup David’s cheek, one hot tear does fall right onto his thumb.</p>
<p>David takes a deep breath and finally answers.</p>
<p>“For coming home to me.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks to everyone who has been reading this as a WIP. I can't tell you how much your feedback has helped me get through these past couple of weeks. We've got just a few chapters left and I'm going to try to stick to daily uploads. :)</p>
<p>You can find me on my tumblr - <a href="https://language-of-love.tumblr.com/">language-of-love</a> if you ever have questions or want to chat about my fics. :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<p>
  <b>January 1, 2016 - 2:20 pm - Three years and nine months ago</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The sound of his fork scraping against the plate as he dumps the cold Belgian waffle into his garbage disposal is sharp in that way that would normally make his teeth ache. But he doesn’t even cringe, the sound not even strong enough to crack through the veil of anger that’s settled around him at being stood up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t ask for much from David. Honestly, very little. And he couldn’t even give him this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t even have the decency to…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His phone vibrates loudly on the table and Patrick curses under his breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now you have good timing?” he grumbles at David’s face staring at him from his phone display.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He presses the answer button so hard he’s surprised he doesn’t break his phone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh god, I’m so sorry Patrick. Svetlana took me to Apotheke after you left last night and my only excuse is absinthe. I honestly don’t even know what day it is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s New Year’s Day, David, and I’ve been waiting for you since 12:30.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you please lower your voice. I think my brain is seeping out of my ears.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Normally, he’d find David’s dramatics funny. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But not today. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>First, he didn’t expect to be introduced to David’s new Russian model girlfriend Patrick had no idea about last night when he thought they were just meeting up for a New Year’s Eve drink. He’d foolishly even planned to come out to David over a bottle of champagne, but that certainly didn’t happen, either. So, being ignored today after he spent all morning cooking a New Year’s Day brunch, he’s not finding any of this even the tiniest bit amusing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll just hang up and then it can be super quiet for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, wow. I know I fucked up, but you could maybe take it down a notch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuck. He’s right. This is what happens with Patrick. He bottles shit up and in the process, he places importance on things but neglects to let the people in his life know his expectations. It’s not fair that he’s projecting a lot of unspoken shit at David right now, so he pushes through his anger just a little to apologize.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re right. Sorry. I’m just…” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Heartbroken. Sad. Angry. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Frustrated. Let’s talk later, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” David says, his voice too quiet, making Patrick feel even worse. He knows David didn’t mean to hurt him, but he does wish he’d have been made a priority, just for a few hours today.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Patrick.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Happy New Year.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Happy New Year, David.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <b>September 29, 2019 - 8:15 am - Present Day</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What is that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David’s voice beside him drags Patrick’s from slumber and without opening his eyes, he mumbles a half-asleep response.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That sound. Is that your intercom?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Okay, that wakes him up a little bit more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His intercom buzzes again and he sits up, looks over at David, still gloriously naked under Patrick’s sheets, already grumbling himself back to sleep. Patrick has no idea who could be at his door this early on a Sunday and he grumbles a little, too, as he shrugs into a pair of boxers and pads over to the intercom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s me, buzz me in!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, it’s just Rachel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Rachel!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“David! Get up!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David’s head pops up off the pillow and he looks around the room, adorably confused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whaaa, why, what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rachel’s here!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David just waves his hand at Patrick and shuffles back down to his previous position.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh good, she’ll have pastries. Buzz her in.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The intercom buzzes loudly in his ear and Patrick suddenly wonders if he’s still dreaming, because this is all a little too ridiculous.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pushing the button to open the door for Rachel, he quickly sprints back over to the bed and drags the sheet and blanket off of David’s body. It’s distracting for a split-second, seeing him in all his long-legged glory, but he refocuses himself on the matter at hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“David, Rachel doesn’t know we’re doing…” He stops and waves his hands between David’s nakedness and his near nakedness. “This. All of this!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David, to his credit, only takes a second and a half to spring out of the bed and grab the bedspread from Patrick and wrap himself up in it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have to go!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where do you plan on going exactly? Rachel’s on her way up the elevator right now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick gathers David’s discarded clothes from last night into his hands and begins shoving them and David unceremoniously towards the bathroom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Get in there and get dressed. I’ll think of something by the time you get out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine, but this is all on you. I am not quick on my feet before nine am and a full cup of coffee.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door to the bathroom is closing when Patrick realizes one last thing and rushes forward.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“David, I’m gonna need the bedspread.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The hilarity of the moment hits him as David dramatically whips the bedspread out of the crack in the open door and he can’t help but laugh as he hastily tosses it back on the bed and shrugs into pajama pants and a t-shirt. There’s not much more he can do before Rachel’s at his door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On cue, he hears the soft rap of her knuckles and he spares a quick glance at his closed bathroom door as he goes to let her in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s early, I know, sorry. I just haven’t seen you in like a week and I’ve got an hour before work.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She drops a kiss on his cheek as she rushes past him and plops a bag of something that he knows will make David happy onto his table. Pastries. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because he’s missed her, he gathers her up into a hug that she sinks into immediately.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did you bring me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Apple cider donuts.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my god, yum!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick’s head whips towards the bathroom and Rachel jumps out of his arms at the unexpected sound of David’s voice behind her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy shit, David, where did you come from?” Rachel’s holding her hand over her heart and again, the ridiculousness of all of this threatens to drag Patrick into a fit of giggles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David’s hair is adorably flat on his head and his sweatshirt is a bit askew, but he’s acting as if finding him here in Patrick’s apartment early in the morning is completely normal as he smiles and gestures behind him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was in the bathroom.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clearing his throat, Patrick does his best to come up with something plausible.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was helping David with his ordering system last night and it got late, so he stayed over.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rachel narrows her eyes at that and she looks down at Patrick’s pajama pants and then over at David fully dressed in his jeans. There is absolutely no way she’s buying this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’s too quiet as David walks barefoot over to the kitchen and opens the cabinet to pull out a few plates. She’s still too quiet as Patrick shuffles in behind him to switch on the coffee maker and empties the used filter in the trash. And she’s entirely too quiet as David opens the bag of donuts and pops one directly in his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my god.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She knows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” David mumbles, dropping a cascade of crumbs and cinnamon sugar from his mouth to the front of his sweatshirt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick watches as she walks over towards his bed before turning on her heel to return to the kitchen where she steps right up into Patrick’s face with her hands on her hips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You two had sex.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Heat burns up Patrick’s neck toward his cheeks as he hears David sputtering on the rest of his bite of donut and he knows there’s no use in trying to rescue this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How did you know?” Patrick asks, widening his eyes in a look of chagrin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Patrick, we were together for seven years. I know you better than I know myself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her face is hard to read and he’s not sure if she’s upset, but as he watches her, her stoic expression breaks and she’s suddenly trying really hard to hold back a laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The lube on the nightstand was an obvious giveaway, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David just scoffs and collapses onto the chair by his hip and he picks up another donut.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, that secret’s out,” he says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s the straw that breaks him and Patrick leans down with his hands on his knees as he dissolves into uncontrollable laughter. When he lifts his head, Rachel’s looking at him like he’s grown three heads and that just makes him laugh even harder. God, he’s so glad he doesn’t have to keep this from her, but this is not how he would have preferred giving her the information.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obviously realizing she’s not going to be getting much from Patrick at the moment, Rachel marches over to David and grabs the donut straight from his fingers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Start talking or the donut dies.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey! Don’t look at me. He’s the one who suggested we keep this a secret.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What a traitor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I seem to remember someone saying how fun it would be, so maybe you could have my back a little?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rachel plops down in the chair next to David and digs out her own donut, waving it in the air at David and then over at Patrick.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my god, I have not missed being the net in your endless ping pong matches. Someone, anyone, start filling me in.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So that’s what he does - with a little help from David when he objects to a few details - and she sits there, nibbling on her donut and smiling at them both. And god, does it feel good. He’s not second guessing the week they had to themselves, not at all, but seeing his own happiness reflected in her eyes is all he could ever ask for.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It goes without saying, but I’m gonna say it anyway. It’s about fucking time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell me about it,” Patrick agrees as he pours David a mug of coffee behind her. After sweetening it to David’s liking, he hands it to him and drapes his arm across the back of his chair, leaning his hip lightly into his shoulder. Like a magnet, David angles himself a little closer as he takes a long whiff of his coffee.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So wait, David, have you been pining for this guy as long as he’s been pining for you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’ve talked about this a little, but David’s been pretty vague about how long he’s had feelings for him, so he’s curious to hear this answer having the question stated so directly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I dunno, probably. I think there’s always been a spark there with us, even if we weren’t paying close enough attention to start a fire.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, wasn’t that poetic,” Rachel says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And before my coffee,” David agrees. “I’m pretty impressed with myself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a nice sentiment, but for Patrick, leaves the question still unanswered. And it probably shouldn’t matter as much as it does, but it’s human nature to wonder if your feelings were being returned. It would help him to know if he was the only one making wishes and crafting dreams that involved a future together, or if David was doing the same thing here in New York.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David has always protected his more emotional, deeper feelings, held them in tight until he knew it was safe to let them free. Patrick knows this. And he knows David knows he knows this. But after the week they’ve had together, he’s not sure what more David could need to feel safe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He waits until Rachel has left for work to attempt to find out.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m really glad she knows.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David’s hand on Patrick’s chest slides down and tucks in between the mattress and the curve of his waist as he nods his agreement under Patrick’s chin. Patrick remembers mornings spent alone in his bed in Toronto, imagining his extra pillow curled into his side was David, wondering if he’d ever know the reality of a moment like this. So he tightens his hold just a little and turns his head so he can press a smile into David’s hair as they quietly cuddle the rest of the morning away back in his bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a nervous rumbling in his gut telling him he should just leave well enough alone, but he doesn’t want unspoken things to fester and cause unnecessary cracks in this thing they’re building together. He doesn’t want to assume a fragility that he doesn’t currently feel. So, with his mouth still lost in the soft strands of David’s hair, he puts voice to the question.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How long have you wanted this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a telltale stiffening of David in his arms, but it’s just a slight one - nothing overtly alarming. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For a long time,” David answers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he doesn’t elaborate, Patrick’s unable to pry back the tiny tendrils of disappointment pushing to the front of his brain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How long is long? Months, or are we talking in years here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That nervous rumbling spreads when David starts to untangle himself, but doesn’t pull away completely - thank god - rearranging limbs so he can lean on his elbow and look over at Patrick with obvious questions in his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this a competition or something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Patrick says quickly. Running his hand soothingly up and down David’s back, he tries to find the right words to express what he’s curious to hear from him right now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I told you the exact day I knew, and it was a long time ago, so in my head, I have to assume there’s a similar trigger for you, a time you can point to, you know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe that was too much? Why is he pushing?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David is here, in his arms, in his bed, telling him he’s wanted this for a long time. Isn’t that really all Patrick was hoping for? David’s been more open with his feelings since Patrick’s come home than ever in their lives and that’s honestly monumental, for both of them, really. It’s more than enough. And David needs to know that, too. They aren’t the same people they were years ago, with wants and desires all locked away and unexpressed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shuffling onto his side, he maneuvers David onto his back and waits for his surprised huff to transition into a curious smile before he lowers his head to brush his mouth with a soft kiss. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My parents knew how you felt before I did,” Patrick says as he releases David’s lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Patrick nods, his bottom lip brushes David’s cupid’s bow and David’s chin lifts and their mouths meet again in a conversation they’re both comfortable with, whispers of shared breaths and lips pressing into lips. David’s body relaxes into the mattress beneath him and Patrick melts further into the kiss, his breath shuddering a little when David pulls his mouth back to take a breath, only to quickly pull Patrick back down by the neck in welcome for more. They kiss for a while longer until David’s curiosity apparently gets the better of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When did they know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lifting his head from where he’s been nibbling at the soft skin behind David’s ear, Patrick pushes through the thick fog of arousal to circle back to the conversation they’d interrupted with their kisses.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My parents?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, you said…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My graduation weekend.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David’s jaw drops open and his hand shoots up to cover his mouth, but Patrick doesn’t want him to hide, not from something that makes Patrick so happy. Leaning on his elbow, he gingerly pulls David’s hand from his face and pushes it back down onto the pillow so he can thread their fingers together. David’s embarrassment fades at the gesture and Patrick smiles down at him as he gives his head a little shake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My mom left that trip knowing two things for certain. You had definite opinions on falafel and very strong feelings for me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will not apologize for having high falafel standards.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And your strong feelings for me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not apologizing for those either.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The scene where Rachel catches them in bed was <em>absolutely</em> one of my favorite pieces to write in this entire story, so I hope you enjoyed the canon easter eggs I threw in there. ;) Also, while the next chapter was supposed to be the last, I'm putting final touches on an epilogue. I just wasn't ready to say goodbye to these two idiots yet.</p>
<p>You can find me on my tumblr - <a href="https://language-of-love.tumblr.com/">language-of-love</a> if you ever have questions or want to chat about my fics. :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>
  <b>October 3, 2019 - 10:00 am - Present Day</b>
</p><p> </p><p>It’s early in October still, so the trees have only taken on a bit of color, but even the sporadic splashes of orange and red make this section of Central Park an absolute marvel. Joggers and parents and nannies with strollers have clogged up the walking path, but he’s just as happy making his way via the grassy hills - more like mounds really - and the occasional weaving between boulders dotted with toddlers and teenagers. It’s an urban hike, for sure, but the elevated heart rate and grass instead of pavement are enough to help clear out his thoughts. </p><p>It’s been a whirlwind since he stepped off the plane from Toronto. He’s felt a bit like a kite, whipping about, happily, but without a good plan on where the wind will take him next. Walking through this park in this chaotic city has been a necessary reminder of how planning can be both functional and beautiful. As he’s walked, he’s begun to reflect on the similarly chaotic, yet beautiful shift in his relationship with David, this unexpected - yet with some perspective, wholly predictable - new direction of his life that he just needs to organize in order to fully embrace.</p><p>Loving David is a fact, an immovable, unchangeable thing, like breathing or putting one foot in front of another, so that’s a fixed point. David’s feelings for him in return are admittedly less defined, but as far as Patrick can see and feel, they’re just as real and not a new development. How deep the foundation of them lies is something he’s still curious to unearth, but he’s being patient. Having never expected to have all of his dreams come true, it’s a learning curve and he’s reminding himself not to nitpick around the edges. </p><p>He spies a quiet alcove at the base of a few trees up ahead and makes his way over, grabbing his phone from his pocket as soon as he’s found a comfortable sitting position. There’s two opinions he could really use right now. He talked to his parents briefly after the store opening, so they know things with David are progressing, but he’d been cautious with getting their hopes up too high too soon.</p><p>Excitement at finally telling them about just how much things have changed with David gives him a bit of a head rush as the phone rings, and when his mom’s face pops up on the screen, he’s a bit worried he might actually cry. But he keeps himself together and smiles as she gets herself settled.</p><p>“Oh Patrick, we’re so happy you called! Clint, can you hear Patrick?”</p><p>“You need to let him speak, honey.”</p><p>“Hi guys! Where's Dad, I can’t see him?”</p><p>“He’s at the stove stirring his chili.”</p><p>Patrick’s stomach grumbles just thinking about how good a bowl of that sounds right now.</p><p>“Ugh, you’re making me hungry. Anyway, I have some exciting news about me and David.”</p><p>“Oh, we already saw it! Oh Patrick, it’s so romantic. I knew I was right about David all those years ago.”</p><p>Huh?</p><p>“Wait, what are you talking about? You saw what?”</p><p>“The article!” his Dad yells from across the kitchen.</p><p>“What article?”</p><p>One thing Patrick shares with his mom is their expressive eyes and hers widening slowly are telling him he might not be prepared for whatever’s in this mysterious article.</p><p>“I’m sorry Patrick, I figured you knew about it. David did an interview in US Weekly that just came out online today.”</p><p>No, he definitely didn’t know about any interview. It’s natural to feel a bit ticked off about that, right? But his parents seem overjoyed, so he should probably tamp that impulse down until he finds out what it says.</p><p>“Yeah, no, this is news to me. Do you have it there? Can you, uh, read it to me?”</p><p>“Of course. Clint, grab my iPad, it’s right over, yeah, on the chair.”</p><p>Patrick pushes himself back a little so he can sit up straighter against the tree trunk as his belly swirls with equal parts curiosity and anxiety at what’s to come.</p><p>“Okay, here it is. It’s only a few paragraphs. Are you ready?”</p><p>“I guess so,” he whispers. </p><p>His mom smiles at him and begins to read.</p><p>
  <em> “Still glowing from the smashing success of the opening of his fashion boutique, celebrity designer David Rose sat down with me to unfurl a few more personal petals from his rose-colored life. We’ve all heard about his new boyfriend, Patrick Brewer, from their Instagram unveiling, but David gave me the scoop on how deep their roots actually go. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Patrick and I met over six years ago and I knew, from that first day in his musty office at NYU, my life would forever be changed just by knowing him”, Rose shared with a wistful smile. “He gave me confidence when I needed it most, challenged me to be more than I thought I could be, and loved me when I didn’t know how to love myself. I took that love for granted for a time, and I thought I’d lost him, but we found our way back to each other and I can honestly say I’ve never been happier.” </em>
</p><p>Patrick’s heart is pounding and he’s having to remind himself how to breathe.</p><p>
  <em> When I pressed him for more details, David was surprisingly willing to spill a bit more tea. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Falling in love with Patrick was like the tide coming in. It happened slowly, almost without me realizing it until I was completely underwater and not quite ready to swim. He asked me recently if I have an exact moment that I knew, and I’ve tried to think about that, to come up with an answer. And I honestly can’t, because looking back, there isn’t a time where that love wasn’t there. All I can say is I’m ready to build a future with him and I’m excited to see what comes next.” </em>
</p><p>Tears are falling freely down his cheeks and Patrick has to grab hold of his wrist so his phone in his hand stops shaking as his Mom reads the last of the article.</p><p>
  <em> Rose says he’s ready for his relationship with Patrick to be something just for them and he won’t be doing more interviews like this again, unless Patrick wants it. We’ll do our best to respect that, but if they decide to be all cute on Instagram again, you know we’ll be the first to share it with you! </em>
</p><p>
  <em> His sister, Alexis, who helped arrange our chat with David, was more than happy to spill the beans on her new beau, a very hunky veterinarian in Bushwick. Stay tuned next week for all the deets!” </em>
</p><p>“Oh honey, are you okay?”</p><p>“No,” Patrick sobs. “Yes. Mom, I’m falling apart over here.” </p><p>He is, but in the best possible way. </p><p>“Give me a quick second, okay?”</p><p>Unable to wait for her to answer, he lets his phone drop into the grass at his hip and covers his face with his hands, smiling through tears into his palms as he tries to get a hold of himself. David Rose just professed his love in a gossip magazine and if it wasn’t the most romantic thing Patrick’s ever fucking read, he’d ring his beautiful neck. What an absolute idiot. God, he loves him so much. </p><p>After taking a few more deep breaths, he rakes his hands down his face to clear away the tears and picks up the phone again to face his mom with a still shaky smile. </p><p>“Whew, sorry, that was a lot.”</p><p>“I know, but Patrick, we’re so happy for you. All we’ve ever wanted is for you to be loved and well, I think David might love you…”</p><p>“A whole hell of a lot,” his dad says as he pops into the frame over his mom’s shoulder.</p><p>Chuckling through the emotion threatening to bring on another round of tears, Patrick voices his agreement.</p><p>“It appears so. Luckily I love him just as much, so we’re even.”</p><p>“It’s not a competition, son.”</p><p>Why does everyone think he’s so competitive?</p><p>“Shh Clint.”</p><p>He needs to see David, now. His silence about all of this probably means he’s freaking out and Patrick wants to put him out of his misery. And he needs to kiss his stupid face. Pushing himself to his feet, he makes his way out of his alcove back onto the walking path.</p><p>“Guys, I need to go, but I want you to be the first to know that I’m going to be working with David at the store. He asked me when I first came back and that’s what I’d actually called you to talk about, but I know for sure now it’s where I’m supposed to be.”</p><p>After hanging up with them, he practically sprints out of the park to the nearest intersection and hails a cab, too impatient to wait for an Uber or deal with the subway. As he’s sitting on the ripped vinyl seat, speeding down Columbus Ave, the texts from Rachel come pouring in.</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="phone">
  <p class="messagebody">
    <span class="header">Rach</span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
    <span class="breply">OMG</span>
    <br/>
    <span class="breply">I can’t believe he said all of that!</span>
    <br/>
    <span class="breply">Are you still alive?</span>
    <br/>
    <span class="text">barely. on my way to see him now</span>
    <br/>
    <span class="breply">😍</span>
    <br/>
    <span class="breply">Love you</span>
    <br/>
    <span class="text">love you, too</span>
  </p>
</div><p>It takes him three tries to swipe his credit card into the machine in the cab thanks to the adrenaline making his hand shake, and it’s still vibrating as he pulls open the door and walks into Rose Atelier.</p><p>Disappointment hits him when he sees Stevie slumped behind the counter and no sign of David, but she straightens as soon as they lock eyes and she points towards the back room. Her usually disaffected expression shifts immediately to an encouraging smile as he takes a few more steps into the store. </p><p>“Hey David, you’ve got a customer,” she says. </p><p>“And you can’t help them because…?” David questions as he steps out of the back room, but freezes in the doorway as soon as his eyes land on Patrick.</p><p>“Hi.”</p><p>Looking down, Patrick unlocks his phone and holds the screen up so David can see the article open on his browser.<br/><br/>“You know people will read this, right?”</p><p>That crooked smile Patrick had hoped to see falls into place and David nods, mumbling “uh huh” as he walks out from behind the counter towards him with an air of confidence that’s making the hair on the back of Patrick’s neck stand on end. </p><p>Drawn together like magnets, they meet in the middle of the store, neither of them saying anything, but maybe that’s because they’ve finally said everything that needs to be said. </p><p>David’s arms snake around his shoulders and Patrick draws him in closer by the waist and with a tiny lift of his chin David’s kissing him, lips sure and strong. Patrick’s a bit awestruck when David pulls back entirely too soon, but his mouth is moving and the words “I love you” are coming out and it’s like every single minute of their lives together are like arrows, all pointing to this very moment and all he can do is keep his eyes open wide and smile so he doesn’t miss a second of it. </p><p>David’s processing his own words, too. His face is on quite a journey as he does his best to hide the fact that he’s close to tears.</p><p>“Okay, I’m obviously very happy for you two, but ew.”</p><p>It’s a challenge, but Patrick manages to tear his gaze from David long enough to send a smirk over his shoulder at Stevie.</p><p>“You better get used to it.”</p><p>“Unlikely,” she shoots back, doing a really bad job at hiding her smile.</p><p>“Wait, does that mean?” David asks.</p><p>His grin widens as he looks back up at David, tightening his hands on his waist to bring him in as close as possible - both because he wants to and he knows it will annoy Stevie even more.</p><p>“You made me a key.”</p><p>“I did.”</p><p>“And the offer still stands?”</p><p>“It does.”</p><p>“I’m in.”</p><p>David’s smile could light all of Manhattan as he leans in for a kiss, but Patrick stops him with a press of his fingers against his lips.</p><p>“If we’re partners now, can I suggest maybe adding some blue shirts to the collection? Black just really isn’t my color.”</p><p>Patrick finds himself immediately standing bereft of his boyfriend who’s taken a large step straight out of his arms. His eyes have narrowed to slits at Patrick who’s barely containing a laugh. Stevie’s laughter, on the contrary, is not in the least bit contained and growing louder than the store's instrumental soundtrack. The choice of music is another thing he hopes to speak to David about, but something tells him this just isn’t the right time. </p><p>David looks at Patrick and then over at Stevie and then back at Patrick before holding both of his hands out in front of him with a look of utter disdain.</p><p>“Give me your keys, you’re both fired.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <b>September 18, 2015 - Four years ago</b>
</p><p>OK! Magazine<em> - Celeb Quickies! </em></p><p>
  <em> “Spotted: David Rose and an unknown stocky brunette, looking cozy and deeply in love at the opening of Club Rosebud Friday night. The pair couldn’t keep their hands or eyes off one another, even in front of David’s ex-boyfriend, Sebastien Raine. David’s new flame was dressed in a blue sport coat that, unfortunately for the fashion icon on his wrist, looked decidedly off the rack. But from the looks on their faces, those clothes would be on the floor by the end of the night anyway. Let’s hope this is love blossoming for one of our very favorite Roses!” </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This was supposed to be the end, but I got an idea for an epilogue that will go up hopefully tomorrow! I hope you've enjoyed this idiots to friends to lovers to long distance pining to fake dating to secret dating tale. ;) It was a huge undertaking and an absolute joy to write. Your comments have meant so much!</p><p>Stay tuned for the last little bit to come!</p><p>You can find me on my tumblr - <a href="https://language-of-love.tumblr.com/">language-of-love</a> if you ever have questions or want to chat about my fics. :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>How about a little bit more, but from David's POV? :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>
  <b>August 20, 2019 - 9:02 am - Just over four months ago</b>
</p><p> </p><p>“I see you waited a full two minutes after 9 to call me. Must be important.”</p><p>“I would have called even earlier, but I need you awake for this,” Patrick says, his voice through the phone a little breathy, like he’s out on one of his hikes.</p><p>“Let me guess, you’ve been up for hours and are in some woodland area conversing with squirrels and birds like Snow White. Or was that Cinderella? Or both?”</p><p>“David, what exactly do you think I do when I hike?”</p><p>“How should I know? I’ve never been invited to join you.”</p><p>Patrick laughs right into the receiver and David smiles up at the ceiling of his bedroom. Oh how he misses hearing that laugh in person. If it wasn’t for modern technology keeping him connected to the other half of his heart in Toronto all these years, he would have shriveled up and died by now. </p><p>“I would gladly go back and forth with you on this, but I’ve got news.”</p><p>“Okay, so you concede,” he chides. “Continue.”</p><p>The deep breath Patrick expels makes David’s tummy rumble a little with worry. What if Patrick’s about to tell him that he’s met someone? <em> Fuck </em>. That isn’t something David’s at all prepared to hear right now. Or ever. Is he finally facing the consequences of waiting too long?</p><p>“I’m moving back to New York.”</p><p>Oh.</p><p>My.</p><p>God.</p><p>David shoots up in bed, nearly dropping his phone as adrenaline spikes from his heart through all of his blood vessels all at once.</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>“Really, David. I’ll be back before your store opens.”</p><p>“Patrick, I’m…” David’s mouth is moving faster than his brain and he has to stop himself from saying too much. “I think, just this once, you could have woken me up with news like this. For future reference.”</p><p>“Noted.”</p><p>David’s flushing all over just thinking about what Patrick being back in New York could mean. There’s so many conversations he’s rehearsed, scenarios he’s journaled and wishes he’s spoken aloud while lying alone in this bed in the middle of the night. </p><p>“What prompted this?” he asks. </p><p>“It’s time,” is all Patrick says in response. </p><p>“I’d say it’s well past time, but you’ve known my opinion on you not being here since the day you left. So...I’ll just leave that unsaid.”</p><p>“Yes, good job keeping that thought to yourself.”</p><p>He can actually hear Patrick’s smile, if such a thing is even possible. He hopes Patrick can hear his right back, because this might just be the happiest day of his life.</p><p>“Well, thank you, Patrick, for finally seeing the error in your ways.”</p><p>“You’re welcome, David.”</p><p>An hour and two stacks of pancakes from Sarabeth’s later, David feels settled enough to pull out his journal and start jotting down his collage of thoughts, fears, and hopes he’s been piecing together since his call with Patrick. It’s a lot to take in, having the love of his life tell him he’s finally coming home. </p><p>Letting his eyes wander from the blank page, his gaze falls on the bolt of blue silk he’d purchased a few months ago, peeking out between an array of black and white fabric leaning against the far wall. Unsurprisingly, he’d been thinking of Patrick when he’d bought it, not having any concrete plans of what to do with the off-brand color. He’d been missing him pretty badly that week, hours spent in Mood, sifting through wool and notions, wishing so badly for his best friend to be there, walking the endless aisles, torturing him with color. And then he’d spotted the cerulean silk and it suddenly felt like Patrick was there. And he’d bought himself fifty yards.</p><p>Turning back to his journal, he starts to sketch. The ink flows confidently as he shapes out the lines of Patrick’s shoulders and the sturdy width of his arms. Smiling down at the page, he works up a new design for a tailored jacket, something a little more conservative than his collection, but with a hidden bit of flair. He may not have the words yet to tell Patrick how he feels, but he can show him, with a David Rose original, lined in the most beautiful blue silk.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>
  <b>December 31, 2019 - 11:55 pm - Present Day</b>
</p><p> </p><p>The corner of their bed sheet pulls free from the mattress as David clenches his fist into it, thankful for the expensive silky thread count beneath him as he writhes and cries out into the matching pillowcase. Patrick, his love, his everything, and currently his tormentor, is refusing to move, except for his mouth as he breathes hot and wet into the back of David’s neck.</p><p>“I hate you so much right now,” David mumbles, trying and failing to quiet his moan as Patrick’s chuckle causes just the tiniest of shift of angle and increase of pressure.</p><p>“You love me,” Patrick responds, voice soft and gravely, giving away just how much he’s torturing himself, too.</p><p>“We can ring in the New Year a few minutes early, Patrick. Please, just…”</p><p>Patrick’s idea of fucking in the New Year was a good one, but his insistence on not finishing before midnight is absolutely ridiculous. David puts all the energy he has left into lifting his hips upwards. Patrick groans and the fingers on David’s hip dig in, hard.</p><p>“Fuck, okay…okay…can we just…” </p><p>They both moan as Patrick leans back and pulls out and David’s about to throw an absolute fit, until urgent, loving hands are pulling at his shoulder and he’s being pulled onto his side. When he twists his neck to look at Patrick, there’s so much naked emotion there that he’s rendered speechless and lets himself be guided onto his back, his own urgent hands reaching for Patrick’s neck as soon as he’s arranged himself back on top. </p><p>“I wanted to be able to kiss you at midnight,” Patrick breathes, leaning in to do just that. His kiss is everything good and David slides his fingers down so he can frame his cheeks and thumb at his bottom lip, urging Patrick’s mouth to open so they can tangle their tongues. Kissing has been redefined for David since the first time he tasted Patrick back on that day in his store.  He knows there will never be a second in his life moving forward when he won’t crave the press of this man’s lips against his own. </p><p>When Patrick pulls back from the kiss, David groans in frustration, but quiets as he feels Patrick’s hand beneath his thigh, urging him to lift his leg. It takes a few breathless moments until they're connected again, but Patrick always makes this so good, so emotional, leaning back in to take his mouth as David’s ring of muscle gives and Patrick sinks back home. </p><p>“Patrick…” he whispers against his lips. “Patrick…”</p><p>“I’ve got you.”</p><p>Before Patrick, sex was about connection or feeling, sometimes experimentation and sometimes to take back control. But <em> with </em> Patrick, it’s about love. Sure, there’s times it’s about experimentation and control, too, but at the heart of it, it’s always centered in this deep, endless well of love. And as Patrick moves above him, inside him, all over him, he clings to every drop of it, every breathless word, every slide of lips and possessive touch. </p><p>“Fuck, I love you.”</p><p>It’s only when Patrick responds in kind that David realizes he’s said those words aloud.</p><p>It’s not overwhelming saying that anymore, so as he feels Patrick swell inside of him, he lifts his chin so his lips are brushing Patrick’s and whispers it over and over again as Patrick comes first. The man of his dreams, the love of his life, sounds beautiful as he cries out his name, begging him to follow. David’s close, so close, and Patrick knows his body like he knows the strings of his guitar, so he lets go of control and waits to be strummed. Still buried deep, Patrick slips his tongue between David’s lips and gives him a dirty kiss before quickly leaning back, his slightly calloused fingers taking a firm hold of David’s cock. It takes just a firm squeeze and the brush of his thumb over the leaking tip for David’s orgasm to crest.</p><p>“Oh god.”</p><p>“Fuck, Happy New Year, David,” Patrick groans as he watches David’s come coat his belly and something about the moment just seems too fucking ridiculous, no matter how much his body’s cells are rearranging themselves in pleasure.</p><p>There’s just no way he can stop himself from laughing.</p><p>“What’s so funny?”</p><p>“You just popped me,” David tries to say between gasping for air, “like a bottle of champagne.”</p><p>Patrick’s eyes blink a little as his smile breaks wide and soon he’s laughing, too, which is a bit too much with how he’s still seated in David’s ass. David groans and Patrick catches on and after gently pulling out, he’s gathering David in his arms for a sloppy, smiley kiss. </p><p>Hooking his leg over Patrick’s thigh, he makes a swift shift of their positions, reaching for Patrick’s hands so he can entwine their fingers on the pillow beside his head. It’s a mess everywhere they’re pressed together, but he doesn’t fucking care. </p><p>“I love starting this new year with you,” he whispers as he presses a kiss into the corner of Patrick’s mouth.</p><p>Patrick’s hands tighten in his and he shifts his chin just enough to bring their lips together again. David’s heart does a few flips as Patrick kisses him soundly, confidently in that way that’s one hundred percent Patrick Brewer. </p><p>So it shouldn’t surprise him when the words that come out of Patrick’s mouth mere seconds later are spoken with the same confidence.</p><p>“I want to start every year with you, David.”</p><p>But it does. </p><p>And David’s probably jumping about sixteen steps ahead here, but it sounded like Patrick maybe...</p><p>“Oh, um, are you…”</p><p>Patrick smiles and wrestles a hand free, reaching up with it so he can take hold of David’s face and keep him from looking away. Little does he know that David was in no way about to.</p><p>“Yes. I’m asking you to spend the rest of your life with me.”</p><p>“Like marriage?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>A sob escapes David’s throat unbidden and he’s mortified, but Patrick’s still smiling and oh god, is this happening?</p><p>“Are you sure?”</p><p>Even with tears clouding his vision, David can see clearly that Patrick’s big, expressive eyes have gone all soft and he honestly doesn’t need to speak for David to know just how sure he is.</p><p>“My life doesn’t work without you, David. So yes, I’m sure.”</p><p>Tears are falling freely now in hot streaks, warming Patrick’s chin as they fall from David’s face, but he can’t seem to stop. All he can do is nod and mumble, “yes, yes” as he smiles and lets himself be pulled down into a tear-soaked kiss. </p><p>Over the years, he’s shed tears of sadness, loneliness, confusion and heartbreak over this man, and he’s done his fair share of chastising himself for all the time they lost being blind to each other’s feelings. But he wouldn’t change a thing, not a moment, because every move they’ve made, separate and together, somehow led them here. And no one will ever take this man away from him, ever again.</p><p>The first few minutes of the new year are spent tattooing kisses of forever into each other’s skin in the shower and sharing goofy smiles as they work together to change the sheets. </p><p>When the actual New Year’s champagne is eventually brought to his bedside by his...<em> fiancé </em>...they clink their glasses in a cheers and lean in for another kiss. After taking a sip of the champagne, he frowns against the glass and with a huff, reluctantly drags his well-loved body out of their bed.</p><p>Curling his hands around the bottle, he cocks an eyebrow at Patrick before turning towards the kitchen with a flourish.</p><p>“Patrick, I love you, but if we’re in this thing forever, you really need to learn how to properly chill champagne.”<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <b>September 6, 2021</b>
</p><p>
  <em><b>New York Times</b> <b></b></em><br/>
<em><b>FASHION</b> <b><br/>
</b> <b>Love: Vows, Weddings, Modern Love and more.</b></em>
</p><p>
  <b>Not even a late summer rainstorm could put a damper on the long-awaited nuptials of New York Fashion’s favorite couple.</b>
</p><p>Their love affair has captured the hearts of many, but on Friday, September 3rd, under a clear tent in Central Park, David Rose and Patrick Brewer promised their own hearts to one another through the happiest of tears shed by both men and the small gathering of friends and family invited to witness. </p><p>“We’d planned something a bit more grand,” explained Brewer, “but once the rain was forecast we made some changes and, I think David will agree, it couldn’t have been a more perfect day.”</p><p>Rose, looking immaculate in a skirted tuxedo from his new formalwear collection and still beaming hours after the vows were spoken, smiled warmly at his new husband as he nodded his agreement.</p><p>“I’ll probably be mourning the hours spent planning what would have been a masterpiece of a reception for a while, but I won’t remember any of that when I think back on this day,” Rose explained. “I’ll think about the warm glow of the candles and the tears on our loved ones' faces and this amazing man promising to be mine forever. What more could I ask for? Except for dry shoes, dry shoes would have been nice.”</p><p>One ounce of drama came in the form of the dress chosen by Alexis Rose, David’s sister, for the affair, a long white slinky number that many would classify as a wedding gown. The famous family laughed it off as they posed for photos, but we definitely caught some good-natured bickering between sister and brother.  </p><p>The couple’s long time friend, Rachel Tremblay, was responsible for the cake and dessert bar and showed all in attendance why she’s recently earned herself a spot in famed Chelsea Market. Her gingersnap crust tarts, including her reimagining of the famous Canadian butter tart, almost stole the show from the new husbands. </p><p>But as the clouds broke and Rose and Brewer shared an intimate dance under the stars to Sara Bareilles’ “Coming Back to You”, all attention was back on the couple, even if they only had eyes for one another for the rest of the night. </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Words cannot accurately express how much your feedback has meant to me as I've posted this fic. I've been floored by your comments from the insightful three paragraph explorations to the string of emojis, they've all been an absolute delight for me to read. When I started plotting this out back in June, I didn't realize just how many hours I'd spend writing this thing in isolation (serious isolation...), so finally getting it out there was nerve-wracking and exciting in the same breath. Thank you for making this the most fun and least anxiety ridden WIP experience ever. I really hope this little epilogue is a fun way to bring this journey to an end. (or is it? we'll see...)</p><p>And to <a href="https://wild-aloof-rebel.tumblr.com/">Leslie</a>, as the first person to put eyes on this thing, I can't thank you enough for all of the insight you provided to help make it the best thing I think I've ever written. I'll be forever grateful. And all of you have her to thank for enabling me when I came up with the secret dating twist. ;)</p><p>And <a href="https://jessx2231.tumblr.com/">Jess</a>, the absolute best cheerleader I could ever ask for, and a top tier proofreader, your first reaction to this fic will forever live deep in my heart. And the fact that even though you've already read this in full, that you comment on each chapter, you are a serious rockstar!</p><p>Okay, enough blubbering. Thank you for reading and for commenting and for going on this journey with me. I'm not ready to stop writing these two idiots, but they deserve a break, haha!</p><p>Oh, if you haven't listened to Sara Bareilles' beautiful song "Coming Back to You", <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qMKUzKCvx3c">here's the link</a>! It was in her poignant lyrics that I found the title for this fic and the entire song perfectly encapsulates Patrick's journey back home to David.</p><p>You can find me on my tumblr - <a href="https://language-of-love.tumblr.com/">language-of-love</a> if you ever have questions or want to chat about my fics. If you follow me over there and feel like giving this final chapter a reblog now this is complete, I wouldn't hate you for it. ;)</p>
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